Friday, January 9, 2015

A Poop in the Hand is Worth...?

Having two kids has been an adjustment... especially one being an infant and the other a 2 year old.  They both have their own challenges!  Several people have asked me if it's harder having two kids than one.  I don't think that it's "harder" necessarily, but just requires more of you, your time and patience.

I would compare it to getting a new, large, responsibility at work.  It doesn't exactly make the job itself harder, but you have to re-prioritize in order to get everything done and you have to figure out what's the most important thing to focus on at any given time... and then you go home and drink a big glass of wine.  ;)

Case and point... my life today as a mom of two while Jacob's at work:

11:20... After sitting in a quiet room having an hour-long power struggle with an obstinate toddler who refuses to put away her play dough (baby is napping at this point), I decided that it's probably a good time to make lunch as I know that baby will be waking up soon.  So, I clean up the play dough, put it away on a high shelf letting Emily know that she won't be able to play with it tomorrow either as she refused to put it away today.  Then I make PB&J for Emily and I (with toasted frozen bread as, apparently, the stuff that's been out on the counter is now moldy).

Sandwiches are made, half of mine is eaten, Sam starts to scream.  I go into the nursery and feed him, leaving Emily alone in the dining room to finish her lunch.  After feeding Sam (who hasn't been feeling well and has been spitting up more than normal), I realize that he smells kind of gross and decide to give him a bath.  I fill up his tub, get him undressed and into it, and give him a quick wipe down.  Emily comes in with her face and hands covered in peanut butter and jelly.  I tell her to go wash her hands and face with WATER (not just the dry napkin that she's holding).  She goes into the other bathroom and, presumably, washes up (I have yet to check out that bathroom).

By the time she's done there, I'm getting a screaming Sam out of the tub.  She decides that she wants to take a bath so, I empty out Sam's tub and fill up the bath tub for her to play around in.  I take Sam into his room to get a diaper on and get him dressed (yelling questions to Emily so that, by her responses, I'll know that she hasn't drowned... I'm paranoid).  Sam's still screaming.  I think he's tired again, so I put him in his crib and swaddle him.  He's still screaming, but sleepily so I leave to go check on Emily. 

Sam falls asleep.  I take the opportunity to grab my pump.  Since Sam hasn't been feeling well, he hasn't been eating as much, which means that I've been a little, um, "full".  I set up shop outside the bathroom door so I can keep an eye/ear on Emily and start to pump.  I get a couple of ounces in when, almost simultaneously, I hear:


Emily:  Mom, I pooped in the bathtub!  See??!

I quickly disconnect myself from the pump and make a quick assessment of the situation... screaming child or child in bathtub who is HOLDING her own feces.  Hmm.  Tough one?  No. 

I grab toilet paper, take the offending log out of her hand and put it in the toilet.  Lift her up and put her on the potty so that she can finish, empty out the bathtub, grab some Clorox wipes to wipe down the interior and exterior of the tub (it got everywhere since she was passing it between both hands and then touching things), grab some paper towels so that she can wipe her hands off.  Wipe her butt when she's done, take her to the sink so she can wash her hands with soap and then sanitize.  The whole time Sam is screaming from his crib.

Once I'm pretty sure that all fecal matter has been addressed, I go in to get Sam and Emily heads to her room to get dressed.

Sam is pretty much inconsolable by this point so I'm walking, bouncing, shushing, anything that I can think of.  I go into the dining room to get his vibrating bouncer chair and see my lunch sitting on the table.  Oh yeah.  I was eating lunch, wasn't I?

I take Sam and his chair into the master bedroom and manage to calm him down so that I can finish pumping.  Emily comes in, all dressed.  She sees a bottle of lotion on my nightstand and decides that she needs some.  It's the pump bottle variety so, of course, it sprays the wall when she pushes down on it.  I tell her to go grab a towel.  She goes into the bathroom and comes back with a Clorox wipe.  Oh yeah, I forgot to put those away.  She takes the wipe and affixes it to the wall by means of lotion.  And turns around to leave it there.  I manage, somehow, to continue to rock Sam with my foot, while balancing my pumping bottles on my legs so they don't get detached, and reach over with one free hand to wipe off the wall and hand the wipe to Emily to throw away.

Pumping done, I manage to get myself detached, ask Emily to play with Sam for a minute and put the milk in the fridge.   I think come back into the bedroom and have a few quiet moments with Emily and Sam before naptime.  Phew. 

Then it's time for Emily's nap... which coincides with Sam needing to eat.  So, again, Sam's screaming and Emily needs to get down for a nap.  Sam goes into his bouncer once again (getting red in the face and pretty pissed off) while I try to get Emily into bed.  We get the correct water cup, and the correct blanket and try to go potty and FINALLY get her in bed.  I grab Sam, go into the living room, feed him, and manage to get him to fall asleep, too.

1:30... I finish my lunch.


Katherine said...

My initial response was nope nope nope...but then as I am typing that I know as mamas we do what we need to and the things that should make us run don't we just get through it. Case in point this morning 3:30 am to be exact. Cam is coughing due to a runny nose (which has been a recurring thing all week) he gets himself all worked up so I pick him up from his crib to calm him down, then I just i just know he is about to throw up on me and instead of the instinct to get the hell away from it I let it happen as to not upset him anymore. I wake up adam to help change Cam and get in the shower, then take the still upset little one to bed with me. never getting mad or questioning my choices...just thinking I wish I could make him feel better.

Shannon said...

Poop in the tub is one of my nightmares that fortunately hasn't happened yet. Ugh sounds like a stressful day!