Life Parenting

Hashtag, momlife

December 2, 2017

Hi there. Remember me?

Who am I kidding, after 7 weeks with a threenager and a newborn, I barely remember me.

I know, it’s been an eternity since I’ve written. My goal when I share here is really to share something of interest – a recipe or craft, a review or just…something helpful.

Do I do things now? Sure I do. But they’re done flying by the seat of my pants, usually with the aforementioned pants on fire.

“Quick! Before the baby wakes up! Stop jumping! Don’t throw that!”

#momlife

Fact is, I’ve got plenty I could write about. But it’s not fun useful stuff, it’s think pieces coming from a brain lacking in sleep and adult conversation. You want to know the kind of thing I think about?

You ever consider a Wubbanub? It’s a pacifier attached to a little stuffed animal (I thought they were ridiculous, but it actually braces it for the baby a bit). So when you think about it, my son is sucking on a dog’s nipple right now.

You see why I don’t share much?

Side note: have you seen the videos people do where they use the filters that make the eyes real big, the mouth real wide and the voice squeaky (you know, the one that makes you look like the Goombas in the Super Mario Bros movie from the ’90s)? I could do those videos. I say so many bizarre things normally, imagine if I could do it with some semblance of anonymity.

But anyway. Cough cough. Moving on.

So because I have nothing of real note to share with you, I’m going to share the story of The Day My Water Didn’t Break.

One night, back in September, we heard a bang in the middle of the night. My husband leapt out of bed, thinking Little Miss had fallen out of bed (I, being 8 months pregnant, rolled around awkwardly like a turtle on its shell). She was fine though, so we went to sleep and thought nothing of it.

The next morning I heard my husband leave for work. Then I heard him come back in; I figured he forgot his lunch or something. The suddenly he’s standing in the bedroom door.

“That noise last night. Someone* crashed into the car and drove off. Half the front of their car is in the street.”

*colorful language redacted

“My car,” I said, still groggy, “my baby?!”

Yep. My 2.5 month old, beautiful new Subaru, parked in front of the house, had been crashed into hard enough that it moved up onto the grass. [The damage wound up being about $6k] to repair.

My beloved car on her first day back.

Luckily, this was upsetting but manageable. We have good insurance, a good body shop nearby, and my husband knows his way around dealing with car insurance. So it was an inconvenience, but all we lost was a $500 deductible and about 18 days with a rental that smelled like cigarette smoke.

But anyway. Police officer comes to do a report, and even he is impressed that the other car drove off, leaving so many pieces behind.

The officer leaves and I’m on the phone with the owner of the body shop when Little Miss wakes up. Keep in mind, I’m 8 months pregnant, a little flustered, and shaking from adrenaline.

So my sweet 3 year old girl comes down the hall and finding me sitting on the couch on the phone, naturally climbs onto my lap, wrapping her little arms around my neck. And then suddenly I realize I’m sitting on a soaked couch cushion.

I feel around; my pajama pants are wet and the toddler’s shorts are dry. I’m trying my hardest to finish this conversation and retain some of the information I’m being given, but I can hear my voice getting higher and higher.

Now I’m pacing the kitchen, trying to figure out if my water just broke. The moment I’m off the phone, I run into the bathroom, shedding clothes as I go.

It turns out that no, my water hadn’t broken. Little Miss had peed on me, and in the position she was in, it had leaked out of the leg of her nighttime diaper and onto me without ever touching her clothing.

I was absolutely mortified for about a minute and then the situation got real funny.

#momlife

And this is why I have nothing of note to share.

Even when I do cool things, I’m doing it in a nursing tank top with spit up stains, and trying to do it as quickly as possible.

Maybe I’ll have a recipe or something to share one of these days! If I remember what I did. If I remember to take pictures. If the pictures are usable (who knows what state the house will be in).

Sigh.

#momlife

[This post was created entirely mobil, from the couch, with varying numbers of children on me.]

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