The Glamour of Motherhood

On Saturday, my husband left in the wee hours to drive down to Atlanta with his brothers to go see Michigan play in NCAA Final Four/Championship game. I recognized that this was pretty much a once in a lifetime chance for them and they are huge fans.

I gave him a little piece of my mind before he left, just explaining that with the ages that our girls are right now, it's not exactly a piece of cake on a day to day basis. He definitely acknowledged that, but wow, things got interesting.

I mentioned before that we're attempting potty training with Charlotte. The first week was great, then we had a really tough time where she was too scared to sit on the potty, but didn't want to go in her diaper either. Many tantrums occurred, and she started to get a really bad attitude. I was nervous about dealing with it on my own 24/7. On top of that, the hours between 4:30-7 are hellish between trying to prepare dinner, calming a fussy 6 month old who wants to be held, watching the two year old to make sure she gets to the bathroom on time, feeding both children, bathing both children, getting them both off to bed...
oh wah wah wah you say. And that's fine, because I probably would have said that before I had two little kids.

All has been going well, really. Charlotte was super happy on Sunday, used the potty without crying, and had no accidents, and was just fun to be around. I had my parents over in the evening for dinner so they could occupy the kids and give me a little break while I prepared dinner.
Then we get to Monday. I go into Charlotte's room at 9:30 (she's a lazy bones) and noticed quickly that she had thrown up all over the place, and the poor thing just slept in it. I quickly called my friend who was on her way over for a playdate to cancel, just in case this wasn't a one-time thing. Charlotte seemed happy, but was concerned that this whole mess was poop and that really freaked her out. I thought about explaining what vomit was, but she seemed pretty bewildered as it was.
I got her in the tub, put Lena down for a nap and took off all of Charlotte's bedding to get in the wash.
I was giving myself a little pat on the back for remaining cool, calm and collected throughout all of this. I am pretty much the best mom ever.

I offered her a mini muffin that I made fresh that morning, and she wouldn't touch it. She drank a little milk (that I hesitantly offered), and seemed pretty chipper. So chipper that she started hopping around like a frog during a song, and I told her that maybe that wasn't a great idea.
"Tum hurt!"
<barf!!!!!>
I was folding laundry, so I just grabbed a towel and guided her to her little potty where instinct took over and she barfed there. No mess! I am rockin it!!!
After getting everything cleaned up, I made Charlotte a little spot on the couch with some towels and a pillow. I peek up at Lena who is in her swing, DANGLING.

Not nearly as frightening as this

Her legs were hanging off the side, and even if she had fallen, she would not have been injured. I learned that it's time to use the little harness. That incident basically took away any positive feelings I was having towards myself for the day.

Charlotte continued to be sick throughout the day, and unlike many mothers I've read about, I had no instincts to catch her puke with my hands. That shit cray.

Crying out to the heavens. WHYYYY

so sad.

We managed to make it through the day, and we were so happy to have Marcus home on Tuesday. I'm wondering if there's any chance the rest of us will come through this unscathed, but I suppose only time will tell. I had two miss two workouts this week that I already paid for, cancel a play date and a get together with a friend. The one week I had some semblance of a social life, completely went to crap.

 We've been blessed enough to be quite healthy most of the time, but lately we just haven't caught much of a break. But like always, it could be much worse. I'm such a silver linings type of girl. 

She's still pretty whiny and every morning she's crying about her pajamas and I can't figure out the problem. But such is the life of a two year old - spazzing and being particular about everything for no reason. 

This concludes the story of my super fancy stay-at-home life.