"Not Me!" Monday

I'd like to dedicate this week's "Not Me!" post to Member's Mark (Sam's Club generic) brand disposable, latex-free, blue rubber gloves. In our house, the first week in June shall always be known as Rubber Glove Gratitude Week.


Are you ever so completely exhausted, you wish you could just drop right where you are and snooze? So wiped out from hauling a 7-month-pregnant body around and chasing your two active toddlers all over creation you want to forgo the double sink full of stinking dishes and just collapse? Well I'm sorry, but I can't relate. On Monday, it certainly wasn't this 7-month-pregnant mother of two who was too lazy to even leave the boys' room to rest her weary body. And it wasn't the recollection that our bed that was absolutely piled with laundry motivating me to just crumple onto the floor in the boys' room and snooze away while they napped. And just for the record, it also wasn't for like the fifth time in two weeks.

Do you ever take your children in for their well checks at the pediatrician's office and wonder what in the world the other parents must let their children get into, what with all of the bruises, scratches, bites, and cuts covering their bodies? I used to. Since Kayden has grown up and Cam was born, I understand. Even so, my kids never look like those other scratched up kids do. I keep them bruise, scratch, cut, and bite-free week in and week out. So I didn't walk in this week with a genuine anxiety over whether or not Child Protective Services was going to visit our family afterwards. Because even though I parent two very active, curious, daredevil little boys, they don't bruise. In fact, it isn't my second son who on a regular basis looks like a peach that rolled off of the stand, down a ravine, and into a briar patch. He's got tough skin just like me, and besides, what mother would let her kids get into so much trouble that it wasn't too unusual for them to look like they were in a bar fight the night before their pediatrician's appointment? Not me!

Cameron peed in the potty! I am so proud of my little man! He's been showing interest in the potty for about a week now, especially since we are desperately trying to get his older brother to use it on a regular basis. So when he wanted to sit on the toilet and give it a try on Monday night, I of course helped him climb aboard, encouraging all the way. And when he actually peed in the toilet, we did a little happy dance (yes, really)! Naturally wanting to continue the training, he got off of the potty and we walked through the entire routine: flush the potty, move the stool to the sink, wash hands, etc. Surely, I was not so excited that he had actually used the toilet (particularly when his brother is boycotting toilet use...) that I forgot he was still without pants. And I certainly didn't let him brush his teeth sans pants, and then offer him a sip of water. Not me! I remember little tidbits like drinking-water-generally-causes-a-bathroom-reflex-in-small-children. So it wasn't me who turned back from helping Kayden to see my angelic child peeing again - all over the cabinets and floor in the bathroom. Thank you, rubber gloves.

It wasn't the same little cherub who managed to trick his Daddy into thinking he was perfectly contented to sit and draw at his indoor picnic table, only to sneak away minutes later and begin a masterpiece on the floor, walls, windows, and miscellaneous other items within his crayon's reach. Thanks again, rubber gloves (and Magic Eraser pads).

Kayden is seriously giving us a run for our money in the toilet-training department. So, when he asked to use the bathroom earlier this week and wanted a little privacy, I didn't think twice when I let him half-shut the door and finish his business while Cam and I played in the living room. (No really, I didn't think twice. Probably should have, eh?) Nah, not with my kiddos. Because really, it wasn't my beautiful first-born babe who shouted from the bathroom five minutes later, "Moooooommy! I'm dooooone! And look at aaaaaall the paper!" And it wasn't me, who upon opening the bathroom door and retrieving my perfectly trained potty master, found a toilet stuffed to the brim with nearly an entire roll of toilet paper. A used toilet stuffed with nearly an entire roll of unrolled toilet paper. Toilet paper that was quickly absorbing the contents of said used toilet, but had to wait to be taken care of because of the toddlers (one of them pantless) who were quickly scaling the stairs, ready for naptime. Oh rubber gloves, I am so grateful for thee.

Which is why I really wish I'd had you with me for the next few paragraphs...

Kyler and I split parenting duty on Sunday morning. He took Cam to church, and I took Kayden to Leesburg for the JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation) Walk to Cure Diabetes. I figured he could walk if he wanted, and of our two children, he is generally more easy-going on outings. Which is why I want you to understand that it must not have been my darling child who, just as we were pulling into the parking lot before the walk (the walk in Leesburg, a 45-minute drive from home), began vomiting all over the back seat of the car. I did not have to drive past several walk volunteers, stopping cars to direct us where to park, with all windows rolled down, a toddler covered in vomit, and an odor wafting out the windows strong enough to knock out an elephant.

As you continue reading, please also keep in mind that after I had parked the car and sucked in an adequate amount of fresh air to stabilize my nauseous pregnant olfactory senses, I did not then pick through said toddler vomit to get my child out of his car seat and into the parking lot. And after that, I didn't strip that toddler naked in the parking lot and douse him with the contents of a bottle of water, sponge-bathing him in wipes and anti-bacterial gel to cover the smell of vomit, all while an unending stream of people strode past on their way to the starting line.

Please recognize that I am prepared at all times for large messes created by excessive amounts of most any type of bodily fluid, so thank goodness I didn't have to wipe out (pun intended) my entire supply of baby wipes to remove large chunks of vomit from the car seat while Kayden ran back and forth next to the car (in the parking lot, while that unending stream of people continued to walk by...) completely stark naked. I then did not have to empty the contents of a full one-liter bottle of water (the one which I of course, intended for us to drink on the walk) onto the soiled car seat to remove the remaining vomit.

During all this time, it absolutely was not the conference center shuttle bus that came by at least three times, each time stopping so that all aboard could witness the goings on and the driver could ask me if we needed a ride. Ummm....a ride? Not me! More baby wipes? A pressure hose? A haz-mat suit? A pop-up cubicle to surround my car so that every living creature attending this walk won't later be able to identify the pregnant woman squatting and contorting in odd ways over her enormous belly while scraping vomit off of her naked toddler and large, bulky car seat? Absolutely! He didn't offer any of those things. But he did come by five minutes later and offer me another ride, and then engaged me in a conversation about where in West Virginia we were from, because he was from Inwood, and wasn't Harpers Ferry pretty this time of year, with the river full after all of the rain? Yep. That shuttle load got a ride and a show.

Note: I did finally find my naked toddler a pull-up and some clothes. I did not have to dig them out from underneath several huge boxes in the trunk, from a grocery bag of what may or may not have been dirty clothing brought home from Kyler's parents' house several weeks ago.

So when we finally took the nice shuttle driver man up on his multiple offers of rides, it wasn't my toddler who decided to run off in the opposite direction while mommy lugged the stroller, diaper bag, and camera to the shuttle door. And when I finally retrieved my recalcitrant toddler from the parking lot and got him started onto the steps of the shuttle bus, it most certainly was not ALL of the gentlemen on the bus who just sat staring at the sweaty, tired, pregnant mother struggling up the steps with multiple items, bulky stroller and toddler instead of offering any kind of assistance. So I sat down and thanked them all for waiting. And we all bounced along to the walk starting line and had a grand time. :)

Seriously. Where are the rubber gloves when you really need them?

Believe it or not, I'm not finished yet. When the walk was over, we returned to the car, opening all doors and airing it out for several minutes to eliminate the pleasant aroma of vomit-stewing-in-90-degree-heat. I then may or may not have used one of my husband's t-shirts to set in the soggy, vomit-juice soaked car seat that I had to return my toddler to for the ride home. And I couldn't have been in a hurry (because Kyler and I were planning on taking his parents out for a fancy brunch at The Bavarian Inn with the remaining balance on that gift card from our date night a few weeks back). So after I rushed home, dragged Kayden and the car seat into the house (not because I couldn't find the water hose for all of the overgrown bushes on the side of our duplex, but because I genuinely wanted to clean all of the vomit off of the car seat inside my house...) Believe it or not, even though we hadn't actually arrived home until 12:30pm, by the time I'd finished cleaning the car seat, dumping the car seat cover in the washing machine, and convincing Kayden to please get his rear end in the shower now, we still had plenty of time to shower, dry hair, dry car seat cover, reassemble and reinstall car seat, and drive 20 minutes to Shepherdstown for our 1:30pm lunch reservation. After all, I am superwoman. Five minutes IS plenty of time for all of those things.

As it turned out, Kyler's parents asked him to reschedule our lunch for a less hectic day (surely not because they didn't want to have lunch in a fancy restaurant with a toddler that might spew chunks of fancy brunch on them at any given moment). By this time, I had already put a swim diaper on Kayden (because we were going to lunch and the car seat would be wet), thinking I could change him into more suitable clothing when we arrived at our destination. Seeing as how I currently employ a standard pregnant woman's memory (read: impeccably flawless), I did not then forget about the swim diaper when lunch was cancelled. I also did not just leave my toddler to play in the living room in only said swim diaper for the next 30 minutes while I uploaded pictures from the walk and collapsed in the living room. And it most certainly wasn't me that finally realized that Kayden was still in a swim diaper when I saw him lying on the (carpeted) living room floor, surrounded by a sizeable puddle of urine.

And then, I did not make a bee line for the carton of disposable rubber gloves...

And...just in case you are wondering, I did not just totally blow off helping my husband put the kids in bed so I could blog and get all of this out of my system. And I don't intend to eat a very large quantity of ice cream and watch several episodes of FRIENDS after blogging in an attempt to forget this week's events were in fact a part of my everyday existence.

Because they weren't and they aren't. Nope. Not me!


So how did your week go? I'd love to hear about all of the things you didn't do this week! Scroll down and click on the comment link to leave a note.


"Not Me!" Monday is an incredibly fun, blogging carnival started by MckMama on her blog, my charming kids. Basically, it's where we all can be brutally honest about the ridiculous things that will inevitably happen in everyday life.

Follow this link to her blog, where you can read hundreds more fun stories about all of the things that she and everyone else didn't do this week. And, if you decide to join in the "Not Me!" fun, be sure to leave me a comment so I can read about all of the things you didn't do this week!


Kyler said...

It certainly is not me or my genes that are responsible for most of Heather's ""Not Me!" Mondays." I love you baby. Thank you for putting up with the chaos I and my spawn invoke!

Charisse said...

Oh my goodness. I thought the fact that my 3 year old daughter most definitely did not peepee in her panties at the airport because she was busy trying to lock the stall door while her mother (definitely not me) tried to lock HER door so that she didn't pee in her panties.

Thank you, dear Lord, for wipeys and extra sets of clothes. :-)