So you may be wondering where on earth have I been...or not. But I'll tell you anyway.
I couldn't even remember what my last post was, and then when I read it I realized why I hadn't blogged in almost a month. I was getting over "flying solo." And guess what? It's happening again this weekend.
I hope this isn't another indication of a long blogging break. Honestly, I've been in a muddled funk of a mess. Between switching schools for my oldest son and getting into a new routine and work and, let's face it, pure exhaustion, I just haven't had it in me to pour out my hear on my blog and let the world know about the muddlesome messes that were going on.
With my blogging break, I was hoping to come back and not really have any stories to tell or anything to report. I was really wanting to just share some insightful thoughts of motherhood and life in general. Daily musings from a mom that I'm sure so many of you are eager to hear (eye roll).
But alas, I do have mishaps that have happened. So here it goes.
The first being my first experience taking Evan on a field trip. We went to the apple farm and I had Oliver with. Two mobile kids running around an apple farm, that just so happened to have gigantic pigs behind an electric fence, didn't give me any peace of mind.
Then came the port-a-pottty. Oh yes, I do not joke.
As we were transitioning from picking apples to visiting the pigs to getting on the hayride, I noticed Evan doing the "dance." I don't remember now, but at the time, I somehow convinced him that he had to go potty before getting on the hayride. Seeing his classmates in the distance getting on didn't help the issue.
With our apple totes in hand and discarded coats that they got too hot to wear, I stuffed the three of us in one of those glorious rectangle germ-pools and hoisted Evan up to go potty; but then I had to go.
Let me just tell you, trying to corral a 3-year-old and a 17-month-old in a port-a-potty and then keep them in there while you are balancing ever so carefully so as not to touch anything, while at the same time, yanking your said 3-year-old back so he won't open up the latch for the whole world to behold you squatting over a plastic whole in a box, is quite the ordeal.
I zipped up my jeans while simultaneously tumbling out of the "closet" with the two of them and hoisting all our belongings as we ran to the hayride with Evan yelling out, "Don't leave me, don't leave me."
I was so tired by the end of that field trip. I was kind of, secretly, relieved that the pumpkin patch field trip was cancelled today due to rain. Who knows what kind of narrative I would have had for that one. Don't be too disappointed, I have another one.
This one also involves bathroom discussion. Hey, I'm a mom, would you expect anything else?
I ventured out with the boys last week to Sam's Club. I had 5 things to get. Five, no more and no less. I was anticipating a quick in and out trip; however, I wasn't expecting it to downpour the way it ended up doing.
Thankfully, I got a close enough spot to the front and all three of us in our rain boots clomped into the store and I shoved both of them into the front of the cart.
If I may digress for a moment. Why do Sam's Club carts have the smallest openings for the legs in the carts. I always end up having to pull their shoes off before yanking them out in order to get them out. This always involves lots of protest and tears because I'm taking their shoes off.
OK, back to the story.
As we began our quick trip, I had already place 3 of the 5 items in the cart and Evan started wiggling.
Uh oh, I thought. Did he have to poop?
"Um, Evan. Do you need to go potty?"
"No Mom. Wait, yes. I really have to go. Get me a pull-up"
Great. There is no way I am schlepping them back out into the pouring rain to put a pull-up on Evan so he can poop in my car, in which case I know he'll demand privacy forcing Oliver and I in some cramped corner in the Highlander because it's raining outside. Things were starting to look strangely familiar. (See one of my first posts about the movie theater parking lot pooping incident)
"Evan, let's go to the bathroom like a big boy!" I tried to show as much excitement as possible.
"No. Pull-up" The kids will not poop in the potty. Still.
I debated if I should risk grabbing the last few items and going through the line, but beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead. The kid had to go.
I raced to the front, mumbled something to someone at the front desk that we had a bathroom emergency and if they could just keep our cart there, and then ran them out into the rain as we all cramped ourselves into the passenger seat.
Why I did this, I don't know. I just wanted us out of the rain. I got Oliver into the back seat to "walk around" and then got to the task at hand.
No pull-ups in the diaper bag. Size 5 Pampers it was.
"Evan, you're going to have to wear Oliver's diaper to go."
"I'm not a baby. I want a pull-up"
I took a deep breath, knowing that to go into the discussion that there is no difference between pull-ups and diapers and it was still being like a "baby" to go in a pull-up, would be futile at this moment.
It was raining, I was about to be stuck in a stuffy vehicle with a pooping 3-year-old who I needed to get a diaper on.
I just went for it. Got the diaper on him, crawled into the back seat with Oliver and told Evan he had privacy.
He did his business, I took care of it and we made our way back inside.
The inconveniences and adventures as a mother are so numerous, that sometimes you, or at least I do anyway, get overwhelmed with the stories you could share or tell people.
These past 4 weeks were filled with many, but these are the only two I remember at the moment because I didn't get any sleep last night.
That 3-year-old I have, yeah, the one who likes to poop in pull-ups in cars, he decided to get up at 2 a.m. and stay awake the rest of the night. Coincidentally, I went to bed at 2 a.m. because of a story I was writing. No sleep and utter exhaustion is the result.
With that said, I will not be going back over this posting to check grammar or spelling or if any of this makes sense.
I wrote a post, and hopefully will write one tomorrow after I get some sleep. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be hit with some inspiration. It's been very few and far between.
You'll never know what you'll read here because I never know what I'm going to post. It could be a muddle or a reflection or experience that can maybe help another mom.