Have you ever had one of those days where everything goes wrong and continues to snowball as the day progresses and it’s as if someone is trying their hardest to break you? And deep down you know that all you want to do is run out the front door, arms flailing in the air as you scream like a mad person and make a run for it? Or maybe your eyes start twitching and you know any second you are going to find yourself hiding in your dark wardrobe rocking back and forth mumbling ‘mummy, mummy, mummy’ (because that’s all you hear 24/7)?
Well that happens in our household quite often, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that it is always going to be that way because:
1. I am THE biggest clutz known to mankind; AND
2. If something can go wrong it will go wrong!
I’ve made my peace with this and that means that on those crappy days, I can laugh in its face (sometimes rather hysterically I must admit) as if to say ‘Bring It!’ (unfortunately ‘life’ usually bitch slaps me back for daring to laugh at it – but it’s all good, I’VE GOT THIS!).
The last 24 hours have been one hell of a ride. Thankfully I’ve escaped with minimal bruising and only one eye is left twitching.
It all started with Mr Baby having a bad night with silent reflux. As the night wore on poor little man was festering all sorts of mucus and phlegm as his throat become more irritated and by morning we were all sleep deprived and he was brimming with all kinds of gunk. That stuff was stuck and as much as the thought of extracting it with one of those weird bulbous booger suckery thingos made me gag I got all up in there much to his dismay and tried my best to get it all out – gosh those contraptions are gross! After that we were both so traumatised that he chose to just sneeze and cough those boogers out all over my face, clothes and hair and that was fine by me as I much rather have him do that then me have to use that freaking booger extractor again.
As the day progressed not only was I becoming ever crustier as I was slimed with baby boogers, but every nappy change consisted of poo explosions – the kind that take a WHOLE packet of baby wipes to clean up and just as you are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel his nether regions have been exposed to the cold air for so long that he gets cold and then needs to wee – all over himself and you, and the change table, and the carpet, and the wall…how can something so little have so much wee! Then as you are trying to clean up THAT mess (with another packet of baby wipes) he decides to follow-up his poo explosion with ‘Poo Explosion 2.0’ and the cycle starts again – including being peed on for the second time in a row. So nappy changes are taking hours rather than minutes because this kid can’t stop his bodily fluids from flying out all over the damned place!
So it’s fair to say by afternoon I’m slightly frazzled. Frazzled and covered in all sorts of baby gunk and I’m soooo ready for a shower. Now I must explain that having lived in Sydney metro all my life I’ve never had to deal with tank water until I moved to country SA, and we have a love hate relationship. Which is why I wanted to kick its arse (if a water tank could have its arse kicked) when I jumped in the shower and I was greeted with muddy water – yes not only was I covered in baby gunk, I was also now coating myself with a layer of mud, like an elephant in a mud bath. Next thing you know I’m raiding the kitchen for the biggest container I could find and I fill it up with filtered water and I’m having a shower – out of a damned salad bowl! At this point Mr 5 is laughing his head off at silly mummy using kitchen stuff to shower, and Mr Baby has brewed ‘Poo Explosion 5000’ – kill me now!
After that the rest of the day was a blur of ‘Mummy, Mummy, Mum, Mum, Mama, Mama’, a few bruises and (minimal) blood loss thanks to my inability to negotiate a doorway properly and smashing myself into the door frames, a handful of Lego injuries thanks to Mr 5’s inability to put those damn little toys of torture away, plenty of expletives flying out of my mouth and Mr 5 trying to calm me down by telling me to ‘relax my undies’.
Then as I am getting ready to lock myself in the bathroom while I scream into a pillow I look over at my two beautiful boys. Mr 5 is lovingly sitting next to Mr Baby, singing to him to make him smile and Mr Baby is babbling away happily. As I stand there watching this tender moment I know that this is ALL so worth it. I would go through a thousand more days like this because it means I have these awesome little guys in my life. And just like that, with two beautiful smiles on their faces the hours beforehand have been erased and I am ready to face another day.
So bring on the sleep deprivation, the boogers and wee fountains! But please no more Lego injuries – they kill like a MOFO!