Thursday, April 11, 2013

Just a normal day

So, here's how the day's been thus far.

1.       Grace ingests approximately half of a TUMS tablet (and scatters half of the rest of the bottle of TUMS all over the floor). I call poison control to hear that she’ll be fine and get her to drink 4 oz. of water. Right. She doesn’t want more than two swallows. Maybe they meant 4 oz. over the next three hours.

2.       Between a leaky diaper, messy breakfast, and some spit-up (probably thanks to the TUMS), there are about three wardrobe changes before leaving the house.

3.       Even though we’re now ten minutes late for our play date at the children’s museum, Mommy needs a coffee. It’s almost 10 a.m. and half the city apparently also needs coffee. Somehow we’re still only ten minutes late to the museum.

4.       Grace is skipping her morning nap. Instead, she joyfully walks all over the children’s area of the museum putting all of the nasty play toys in her mouth. The low point is when I catch her putting an old chewed-up piece of gum in her mouth. She has a grand time.

5.       Or maybe the low point was when, five minutes after I put a dress-up hat on my head, some other moms come in proclaiming the lice infestation of several weeks ago seems to have started at this very museum, so don’t let your kids put the hats or scarves on their heads. You can check back in a couple days to see if our home becomes infested with lice or hand, foot and mouth disease…or both.

6.       All the business people at our chosen lunch venue are ecstatic to have the opportunity to dine with a 13 month-old, a 2-year-old, and a four-year-old while their moms attempt to converse while feeding and refereeing said children.

7.       Traffic is horrendous on the way home. So, of course, Grace falls asleep for about twenty minutes and awakens when we arrive home.

8.       I decide to let her play outside in the fresh air so maybe she’ll be tired enough to take an actual real nap in an hour. Much dirt and one small rock are ingested. Wardrobe change number four ensues. (Or maybe number five? I really lost count after the first three.)

9.       Has she even had 4 oz. of water yet today? I make her drink some more for good measure. (This also ensures that the rock is all the way down in her stomach and her mouth is no longer muddy.)

10.   After some books and a couple songs, I finally just decide to put a very non-sleepy little girl in her crib. She flails about, yelping and making other noises, for about 25 minutes. Just as I am about to consign myself to grumpiness and crying for the rest of the day, I hear…nothing. She has finally given up and fallen asleep.

 As I type, the nap is going on 40 minutes. At lunch, my friend and I were discussing how much another friend seems to get done in a day and we both come to the conclusion that she has one of the easiest children in the world. (We also decide you can never, ever compare yourself with other moms. It's always detrimental and completely useless.) That makes me realize that I don’t ever really think Grace is a difficult child. Sure, she is one of the quickest, most active children I know, but she is also one of the most social and happy. There are hard, hard moments in motherhood, but when I look at Grace’s face I can’t help but be overwhelmed with my love for her and gratefulness that I get to be her mom. I just need to concentrate on the big picture.

And drink enough caffeine to keep up with her.