Today I am wondering how the mothers of ages past managed. How did the mothers of the Old West manage to not lose their minds? They never got a break … had to make breakfast, lunch and dinner from scratch, had to make their kids clothes by hand, and had to wash out diapers … wait… where did they do that?
Saturdays are usually awesome. Jeff is home & the parenting responsibilities are shared – plus I have adult company all day long! Today, however, Jeff had a wedding to go to in the afternoon (which lasted until well after the “Muffin” went to bed. I could have gone, too, but that would have meant finding a babysitter for the whole afternoon and into bedtime. That’s a tall order, especially when we impose on our babysitters quite a bit for the gigs that we play. Babysitters are precious, and we have to strategically schedule them so we have coverage. Playing music is really my only “job”, and not only do I love it, I need it. I need it the way a drowning man needs a life preserver. It is so completely important to me. But I digress…) Today, I felt like I was pulling a triple shift, for some reason. The day started out good. Everyone was reasonably well behaved. We all had McDonald’s for breakfast, we played in the leaves, and while the “Muffin” took her naps, the “Noodle” and I worked on the invitations for his “Ghost Birthday Party”. Yeah, I know it’s not Halloween anymore, but I asked the “Noodle” what he wanted to do for his “friend” birthday party and he said “Ghosts!!”, so there ya have it.
It was after the napping that was the problem. The “Muffin” scribbled on my sheet music (some of it borrowed – sorry Lauralei!!!) with a green pen. I thought that if I let her draw with the pen she stole from the pen/pencil jar next to me, I could keep her within eyeshot while I practiced & she’d be happy using the “oh so forbidden pen”. I was wrong. Usually, I practice downstairs in the middle of a pile of legos – which is where I realize now I will always have to be. Speaking of Legos, we did venture downstairs after dinner to play with them. The “muffin” refused to clean them up & instead, was dumping them out just as fast as the “noodle” and I could put them away, while trying to climb into the bin – repeatedly. After I had to move her out, physically, several times, I gave up on the clean-up. Somehow, though, some legos managed to make their way upstairs. How do I know? Well, the “noodle” tells me to look in the potty after he had pee-ed. Seems the “muffin” had thrown 3 lego pieces in while he was trying to go to the bathroom. Ironically, they were brown legos. That was probably too much information … anyway, moving on, during bath time, the “muffin” dumps water out of the tub and all over my legs – and my nice warm woolen socks. I don’t have any slippers (that I can find, anymore, anyway) and this is all I have for foot warmth. Our house was built before they believed in insulation, so certain rooms (all the ones we’re usually in) read a temp. of around 52 before I turn the space heater on. The basement was 48, and the office was 52 – the room with the thermostat reads a toasty 65. Her behavior around the time of the Lego incidents is partially my fault, though. It was her bedtime. She should have been bathed & in her PJs by that point, but I was waiting for her diapers in the dryer. Why, you may ask, did I allow myself to cut things so closely? Well… smell. You see, I washed the diapers (and we only have 8, because the good cloth ones are expensive to the tune of 20.00 each), but they still had an odor, so I had to wash them again. Yes, I know, this is not efficient. I didn’t have time today to be efficient. There are days when efficiency just goes right out the window, because of what I like to call “forces of nature” – those being the “noodle” & the “muffin”. Today it was all the “muffin”. You are probably asking yourself, why then, didn’t you just put her in a disposable & call it a night. Well, I would have if I could have. But, you see, the “muffin” needs the extra night time protection afforded to her by triple stuffed cloth pocket diapers. Mere cheap disposables (the only kind we have on hand) are no match for the awesome power of the “muffin”. I think I’ll leave this here… again, this is probably too much information. I’m so wiped out I’m probably delirious. Just one last thought, though: whoever said girls were easier than boys, never had a “Muffin” on their hands.