my day thus far

It started with Jarom's door banging open against the wall, signaling to me that, ready or not, he’s up, and my day has officially begun. I roll over, saying a silent prayer that he will just play quietly with his toys for the next hour, or two or three. No such luck. I can already hear him clamoring up the foot of our log bed, and I open my eyes to see how many of his treasured stuffed animals he is toting up with him, at the same time sneaking a reluctant peak at the alarm clock on the other side of the bed. Suddenly I realize that Jarom is the least of my worries. It is seven thirty-two. Thayne has class at 8:00, and he is still sleeping in the same position that he passed out in last night. I can't say I blame him; after all, I was up until 2:30 this morning too, typing his paper for him as he dictated it to me.
"It's seven thirty!" My cry of disbelief and almost horror wakes Thayne from his unconscious state and sends him hurling to his feet in about a tenth of a second. As he bolts for the bathroom to shave, I head in the other direction at about the same speed to try to make something for his lunch. Because we are poor college students now and Thayne has classes from 8:00am until 8:30pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays I have to send him with a lunch to eat during his short mid-day break. I normally try to be creative, but today I simply grab the frozen lunch meat and throw it in the microwave for 30 seconds, wishing now that I had put it in the fridge the night before so I wouldn't have to shake the little layers of ice off of each paper-thin piece of chicken as I lay it on his sandwiches.
Just my luck, the salad dressing bottle is down to the last two tablespoons in the bottom, and in my haste, it is only a matter of seconds before I have it all the way up to my wrists on both hands. Without bothering to wash my hands, I slap the two pieces of now filled bread together and stuff them into baggies. Suddenly I hear the sound of music coming from Taysia's room. Jarom, trying to be helpful has started winding Taysia's mobile that hangs above her crib. I wouldn't worry, except that in order to wind it, Jarom has to straddle Taysia's sleeping head in order to reach the turn key.
I rush to the bedroom, hands still covered with salad dressing, and remove Jarom from his position, relieved to see Taysia, now awake and smiling, is thankfully unharmed. Steering Jarom toward his dump truck that is laying in the perfect tripping zone, I hurry back to the kitchen to gather a yogurt and strawberry pop tart for Thayne's breakfast. Ten seconds later, Thayne is rushing out the door. I remind him not to speed, but I doubt he hears me.
As I am taking my first real breath of the morning, Jarom comes running back into the kitchen saying he's hungry. I help him into his chair, and proceed to get him the cereal that he wants, only to realize that we are completely out of milk. I had my chance to run to the store last night at 10:30 when the kids were finally asleep, but to be honest, it was the last thing on my mind. Now I try to convince Jarom that he wants oatmeal, not Kix like he was thinking. He throws a fit naturally, until I show him that the oatmeal has peaches in it, and I will put a tiny scoop of ice cream on top. He is okay with that until there are two bites remaining in his bowl. After ten minutes of coaxing and prodding, he finishes his last two bites, and... asks for more.
I tell him he is done, and after stripping him of his oatmeal-covered pajamas, I haul him over to the sink to rinse the oatmeal out of his hair and ears. I can hear Taysia crying in her room, and know I have put off feeding her too long this morning, and she is not going to be patient any more. I tell Jarom to follow me so that I can get him dressed, but he predictably, takes off in the opposite direction. After giving Taysia her binky to buy me a couple more minutes, I take off after Jarom, and somehow manage to get a shirt on him and his diaper off. Bribing him with a potty treat and his new Cars underwear, we head to the bathroom, where I finish dressing him.
Five minutes later Jarom comes running to me yelling "potty." I hurriedly set Taysia on the couch, where she starts to cry, upset that her breakfast has been interrupted, but what can I do, when Jarom says "potty." he literally means NOW, or it is too late. Unfortunately, as we reach the bathroom, I realize that this time he was too late. I patiently remind him to tell me a little sooner, and proceed to get him a new change of clothes.
Forty-five minutes later, I am in the middle of getting dressed when I hear Jarom calling "Mama POTTY!!!" Once again, we run for the bathroom, but again, it is too late. This is the third accident this morning, and he hasn't even had a single drink today! He is NEVER like this!!! As I head to his room to get him more clothes (and this time a diaper) I wonder why I am even doing this. I feel like this potty-training thing has dragged on forever, and I can't help but wonder if it’s even worth it. After everything possible going wrong, and me slacking off here and there a few times, I had dedicated myself to sticking it out this time. But he is not making it easy for me. So taking a deep breath, I resolve to not give up. And lucky for me, my plan works. The minute Jarom sees the diaper, he yells out "underwear!" He does NOT want to wear a diaper. This time he does better, without any accidents until nap time.
I will confess that nap time is my favorite time of the day because if I choose to not take a nap while the kids sleep, I at least get an hour of uninterrupted “me” time (even though most of the time I spend it doing the dishes and cleaning the house). Today I am far too eager to get my much-needed sleep to even think about my other options, but my luck has run out. Jarom is not at all sleepy, and after an hour and a half of laying by him and trying to get him to sleep, I give up.
For lunch he gets mashed potatoes and gravy (leftovers from Tuesday's dinner). And in the time it takes me to reply to one text message from Thayne, asking how my day has been, I turn around to see Jarom completely covered from head to toe in green mashed potatoes (it was for St. Patrick's Day... I was trying to be festive!). Me, not even wanting to deal with it, decide to ignore his act, and find something for myself to eat. It only takes him about two seconds to finish his bowl of food, and he is screaming for more. I make him ask me nicely, and warm his seconds before I dish up my firsts.
As I strip outfit number 5 off of him, and practically give him a bath in the sink, I debate whether I should try to tackle the nap issue again or go for a walk. A look at the thermometer, and my mind is made up. It is 71 degrees outside!!! It hasn't been that warm all year. Besides, I could really use some girl talk right now, and my neighbor has told me that she is always up for a walk if I want company. I send her a text message as I cram Jarom's shoes and socks on him. Even though he normally loves going for walks, it doesn't excite him today, and he keeps trying to run away from me.
Thirty minutes later, after hunting down Jarom three times, and receiving a reply to my text, letting me know that I would be walking solo today (Whitney wasn't home). I remove Thayne's Razor, and hair gel from his determined grip and manage to somehow get Jarom into the stroller and Taysia in the front-pack, and we head off through the cul-de-sac on our walk. The beautiful sunshine feels wonderful, and the candy bars that I stashed in my pocket are well deserved, I reason as I walk along. I may be still trying to lose the baby weight, but some days I have to pick my sanity over the rules.
Even though I am walking alone, it feels good to at least get out of the house. On our way back, I see Andrea sitting on her front porch and decide to stop and talk. I have to laugh because she sounds like she is having a similar day to what I am experiencing. Unfortunately Jarom won't let me sit and enjoy her company though, because he keeps running for the house across the street where there is a dog tied up, barking. In his haste, he trips on a rock and cuts his face on the gravel. Andrea gives me a tissue to wipe the blood away, and we head for home.
The minute we walk in the door Jarom starts crying, and I decide to try the nap thing again. To my surprise, he is asleep within five minutes of his head hitting the pillow. Unfortunately, my opportunity for rest has passed. I need to start fixing dinner, and tidy this toy-cluttered house.
As I sit here, with both kids sleeping, and the silence all around me, wondering when the last time was that I actually did something for ME, I realize that it really isn't all bad. Even though some days I feel a bit sorry for myself, and wonder why everything is so chaotic, I really don't have it too bad. My rewards are angelic smiles after being spit up on for the third time in a row; watching toy cars drive over my knees and across my face while I am feeding the baby; getting "squeezy hugs" after every nap, and wet kisses on both my cheeks every night before bed. My life really is good, and even though I have moments when I wonder what I have gotten myself into, I really am grateful for what I have. So if this is what it means to be a mom, I guess I'll do it for one more day.