6:45 a.m. on Wednesday morning.
If my boys ever read this entry, I want them to realize how much I love them and how easily the day can turn sour with just a few small incidents. This morning was hard, Trevor was hard to get dressed. I had to ask him at least 10 times to do things (get dressed, put your shoes on, take your medicine). So, it was a miracle that we finally were able to get out of the house with enough time to get to work on time. Well, even though we were in the car, I still had Cody run in the house twice to get things I forgot. So, we’re on the road, things are going well, it’s quiet, which is a great sign b/c it means kids are happy or eating. We get on the highway and travel approximately 2 miles and Trevor says, “mom, I think I have a bloody nose.” I turn around and it’s the worse bloody nose I’ve ever seen. I wanted to say “YOU THINK YOU HAVE A BLOODY NOSE?! YOU HAVE BLOOD RUNNING DOWN YOUR ARM!” But it was dark and I didn’t feel like sarcasm would have helped the situation. So, I pull over, jump outside of the car and tend to his bloody nose. He likes to stick Kleenex up his nose, like wrestlers do, to stop the bleeding. On a side note, some wrestlers use tampons when they get a bloody nose, crazy huh?
Any who, so we get the nose cleaned up, and we’re back on the road. Almost as soon as I set my cruise Tyson started crying. I hand him more waffle, he throws it. I rub his head, he throws my hand (not a good sign). For some reason I decide to pull over. Usually I would just let him cry until we got to daycare, because on most occasions when he cries like that he’s just tired. Anyway, I pull over at Riverdale and go around to Tyson’s side to try and find his tippy cup. I hand it to him and he throws it. That’s when I smelled it. I knew he had a poopy diaper and we had already stopped, so I pulled him out to change him. That’s when I realized that his clothes were soiled. I layed him down to change him and realized that he had poop out of his diaper, all the way up his back, to his neck. I’m changing him on the car seat, meanwhile he’s trying to get away (smearing poop everywhere), Trevor is in the backseat saying “I’m cold. Where’s my juice box? When are we going to get to school? Ew gross, it smells in here.” That was the moment that I almost got in the van, with Tyson on my lap and drove back to our house to get back in bed and sleep this horrible day away. After getting Tyson cleaned up I found an extra pair of clothes and got him back in his car seat.
A mile into the drive I turned around to find Tyson asleep and Trevor sitting quietly with Kleenex hanging out of his nose. I apologized to Trevor for being upset with him when he was asking me all of those questions. I explained that I can only do one thing at a time and if he would sit and be patient while I’m doing what I’m doing that I won’t be upset with him. So, we arrive at daycare. Tyson is half asleep. We walk inside to find 1 grumpy daycare worker who could care less that we’re there, another one who’s a little crazy and just blurts out that her father has cancer and they’re just waiting for him to die “he could go any minute”. And a wonderful daycare worker who takes my dessert for the evening meal and thanks me for making it. I walk out of daycare wondering if this is how the rest of my day is going to proceed. Then I make a decision “donut time”. Here I am at work. The donut is gone, there isn’t much coffee left, but I feel better for writing this story for my children to read when they’re older and hopefully not complain when they’re changing my poopy diapers:) He he!
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