Oh, what a day. What a day. Armed with an endless "to-do" list, I pounce on Thursdays like a rabid dog. After dropping Emme at school in the morning, I burn through tasks like wildfire. For two and a half hours I get more accomplished than I can in an entire day with Emme in tow. But today...today I have been quarantined in our home with my kiddos due to the lovely, snotty cold that is floating around these parts. Tissues are strategically placed throughout our house, never out of arms reach, and yet my girls insist on decorating my shirt sleeves with shiny, sticky boogies. Refusing to let my spirit be crushed, I trudge forth, and try to embrace the day I have been given.
Surprisingly, we have a pretty awesome day, despite the continually ooze flowing from my kiddos nostrils. We play Barbies, break-out the Play Dough Ice Cream Sunday Shop, watch a little PBS, laugh at Delaney as she practices sitting (and toppling over) on my bed, make a quick (but necessary) stop at Hobby Lobby, and I even squeeze in an afternoon run with a promised detour at a neighborhood playground. As five o'clock rolls around, I am feeling pretty confident I avoided any mommy freak-out that could have accompanied this kind of unplanned day.
And then the bomb dropped...
Delaney was cranky, yet somehow, did not feel the need to doze off while I got dinner going. Okay. I drug the activity center thing-a-ma-jig up the basement stairs and plopped it in the middle of the kitchen floor. I pre-heat the oven for the marinated pork tenderloin I pulled from the freezer that morning. Grabbed a pan for the meat and was ready to prep the meal. Crap, the tenderloin was still frozen! Think, Nikki, think. Opened the freezer and spotted a batch of chicken enchiladas. That should do the trick. I turned up the heat on oven and tossed the enchiladas in. The tenderloin will have to wait for the weekend.
While dinner cooked, I tackled the overflowing dirty dishes in my sink as I sang the theme song to Sid the Science Kid for Emme & recovered any overboard toys tossed from Delaney's activity center. Delaney started to turn up the crank volume again so I swooped her up to perch on my hip. Oh no. I felt the warm, wet sensation of a full diaper pressed against me. I abandon the dirty dishes to see what surprise awaits me in Delaney's diaper. Explosive poop. Well, it was about time to change her into her pj's anyway. Opened the pj drawer, no pj's. Then I recall laundry was on the docket for this morning. Seriously?
Delaney chilled in her crib as I fumbled in the basement through Emme's old clothes for the Space Bag labeled 12 months. I had to have something clean for the kid to wear to bed. I heard D start to cry so I hauled two giant Space Bags up the basement stairs and returned to Delaney's room. Frantically, I dug through those two bags and could not find one pair of footie pj's! At this point, the kitchen timer is going off, Delaney is wailing, Emme is now singing at the top of her lungs, I can't locate suitably clean pj's for the baby and I suddenly remember the dog still has to be fed.
I grabbed Delaney and headed back to the kitchen. Delaney hung in her activity center long enough for me to get Bella some dog food and take the enchiladas out of the oven. For the love of Pete, the enchiladas were still frozen!!! I threw the pan back in the oven and amped up the oven temperature and returned to the pj hunt. I located a two piece jammie set and began to dress Delaney, all the while talking to myself (in a Rain Man sort of way) that "Mommy really goofed up. She needs to pull her act together." Then Clay's head peeked around the corner, "Babe, everything okay in here?" God bless him, he kept a smile on his face and remained calm as my unplanned day, mommy freak-out moment unfolded.
When we sat down for dinner (at 7 o'clock) Clay placed a beer in front of me and patted my shoulders. Then he asked Emme about her day...
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