You know when you wake up and you just have this sinking feeling that today is going to be an off day? Well, that was precisely what happened to me today.
At 1 am Toby woke up screaming-which is unusual for him. I trudged in his room and and found him in pain and in need of comfort. Teething, I suspected. After an 1 hour and a half of comforting and waiting for the Motrin to kick in, he drifted off to sleep. Then he woke up at 6:20 and I was SO very grateful to have my husband home to get up with him and allow me to catch some extra Z's.
This next part might be TMI for some of you, but I think since most of the people reading this are women, it should be more humorous than anything. So I had a doctors apt. with my OB/GYN to have an IUD put in for my endometriosis. I waited for an hour in the waiting area and then an additional 20 minutes in the exam room. I might add that I have hypoglycemia and was in too big of a hurry to eat breakfast and thus, was experiencing a serious blood sugar drop while I waited. I felt myself getting dizzy and my thoughts irrational. The only thing I can compare a hypoglycemic episode to is like having PMS x 10. Think Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I get really impatient and snap at the slightest provocation. I kept having these imaginary scenarios run through my mind of me going ballistic at one of the nurses. They went something like this: "Where is the freaking doctor?! This is ridiculous! I didn't make and apt. at 11:00 so I could wait around and hour and a half for a 5 minute procedure!" But of course, I suppress my erratic episode and just smile and nod when they apologize about the wait. I am such a pansy, even at my worst.
So finally the extremely uncomfortable procedure is over with and I am heading back home. The "temporary cramping and bleeding" felt more like "temporary child labor" , so I stopped off at Albertsons for Advil and sustenance to restore my sanity. I am in the check-out line and of course the checker is an elderly lady that wants to chit-chat with everyone in line. I put on another good face and try my best to hide my impatience. When I take off for the door, I am immediately stopped by yet another elderly lady who is slowly shuffling her way toward the exit. I really tried to be be patient but remember I am cramping, bleeding, and feeling like I am going to pass-out any moment so I decide to whiz pass her and make a run for my car. Just when I am about to leave the parking lot, I notice my debit card is not in my purse. Exasperated, I ran back into the store found at the exact spot where I passed up the old lady. I think my patience is being tested, I think to myself while gritting my teeth. Then as I make my 2nd attempt to flee, I am blocked AGAIN by another senior citizen! Yup, it is.
Then I am driving home and of course, of course everyone is going at or below the speed limit. I burst through the door, ranting to Nick about my series of unfortunate events. Only partially listening he offers an occasionally "uh-huh" and "oh really?". He knows the real antidote for me is food. I begin to devour my lunch and slowly feel my sanity return.
Feeling much better, I brush off the afternoons events and am determined to not let them overshadow the rest of the day. As soon as Nick leaves for work, Toby becomes extremely fussy and unfortunately we are out of Motrin. Nope, not going to let it get to me, I say to myself. I decide to give him a bath to distract him from his pain. Toby is seriously part fish, he loves water. After the bath, I look for some clothes and a diaper. Found some clothes, but no diaper. Not anywhere. Not in his room, not in the car, not in the diaper bag. This has never happened before! Panic once again ensues and I frantically try to think up of an alternative. Sadly, the only thing I could come up with is taping a maxi pad to the inside of his shorts! Poor child. Praying his bladder could hold out another 10 minutes (or at least not soak through his pathetic substitute of a diaper), I race to the nearest grocery store.
The plan was: get in, grab diapers and Motrin, avoid old people, get out. Well of course I grabbed the squeakiest, most annoying cart available and immediately decide to just hold Toby instead of enduring the insufferable screeches. I grab the Motrin, and am about to grab the diapers when Toby squirms out of my arms. He can't stand for me to hold him longer than a minute or two, especially in a new environment. So I let him run around while I go back and forth about which brand is cheaper (and if this was Nick he would probably already be in the check out line). Suddenly I hear Toby squeal with delight. I look over and he is pulling every possible item off the shelf and into the aisle - AND LOVING IT. I grab him, expecting a melt down. To my surprise, Toby laughs harder- he thinks this is a game! So then I start laughing with him as I desperately try to hold him back (and hope he is holding his bladder). Shaking my head at the absurdity of the situation, I give Toby the Motrin box to gnaw on to keep him occupied, and head for the check out stand. The girl scans the Motrin and then disgusted by its moist surface, wipes her hand on her pants. Embarrassed, I apologize profusely and explain that Toby had his mouth on it. Expecting at least a courtesy laugh, she simply rolls her eyes. I blush a nice crimson red, grab my receipt, and race out the door.
I am walking up the steps of our house when I realize the diapers I bought are one size too big. At this point though, I am beyond caring and am simply grateful to have something other than my own personal hygiene products to put on my son. I grab Toby and immediately notice his bladder could no longer wait.
While I am peeling off his wet clothes and putting on over sized diaper, I can't help but laugh at how this day had definitely been one long comedy of errors.