Lest you think shingles only affects older folks, I have a brutal case. My doc said, "You know, they make a shingles vaccine?" I just stared at him. I'm 33 friggin years old. Wanna sign me up for AARP too? Shall I go ahead and schedule my colonoscopy? Hang on, I can't hear you, I must turn up my hearing aid. Whoops, let me move my life alert bracelet so that I can check the time. Yep, looks like it's time to take my water pill and go have a cup of coffee before bed. In all seriousness... this shingles stuff hurts. Daggum.
If you are single and think you want children, stop reading riiiiight NOW. If you are contemplating children, discretion is advised. If you are pregnant, you should have stopped about twelve words ago. You're emotional anyway, you cute little roley thing. Go eat some ice cream. Now. Stop reading. If you have children, forge ahead and commiserate with me...
I worked this weekend and the kiddos were with grandparents and the hubs. I love that they get special care with those that aren't constantly with them, not to mention, it makes leaving them so much easier. Anyway, I'm not sure what happened with our eldest child this weekend but we went about 344 steps backwards in potty training. He hadn't had an accident in about two weeks. We were well on our way to a diaper-free life (with him) and I was relishing that! Weeeeellllllll, I'm now off for 8 and woke this morning ready to take on the day. Within 20 minutes of taking off his nighttime diaper and putting on undies, he had an "ak-i-dent" of the pee variety. Whatev, I thought, wiped the "pieces" (seriously, that's what he calls it), and put on a fresh pair of undies. By the time I left for the gym around 10, he had had three accidents. What the??? Luckily, I was doing laundry. I headed on to the gym, let him pee in the "mini potty" at the gym nursery, then worked out for a bit over an hour. When I went to pick them up, sweet Mrs. Cindy, our beloved nursery lady, looked totally frazzled. We love that lady and, typically, my kiddos are the only ones there so she's quite fond of them. C was screaming and E was minding his own business building a tower. She informed me that C must have a tummy ache because she'd pooped all over her clothes, the car seat, etc. She had tried everything to make her stop crying but to no avail. C had already been changed and her dirty clothes were already rinsed and in a plastic bag. I covered her nasty seat up with a bib and loaded her up, apologizing to Mrs. Cindy as I worked. I took E back to the bathroom to go before we left and....seriously??? He had had another accident. "Hello, Sara. You have just arrived in children's excretion hell. Take a seat and get comfy." I had not packed another pair of pants but, luckily, had a Pull-up. E walked out of the gym with a Pull-up and no pants. C was hauled out in a poop-covered car seat. I'm expecting my phone to ring annnnny minute to notify me of my Mother of the Year nomination. Anyway, I get in the car and what is the first song that starts?? Darius Rucker's "It Won't Be Like This For Long." I almost shed a tear. Thanks, God, I def needed that. When I think of this song, I remember hearing it when E was 4 days old and we were headed back to the hospital to check his bilirubin level. I vividly remember being in the back seat with my newborn (because with that first baby, you just can't imagine EVER sitting in the front seat, a HUGE 2 extra feet away) and wiping the tears from behind my sunglasses. Now, all I could do was just laugh because isn't that the truth? It won't be like this for long. Then, to snap me out of my revery, E piped up from the backseat, "Here you go, Mom, here's a booger." All I could think (after I took and disposed of said booger) was, "Yay! He's not eating them anymore." It won't be like this for long, eh? Will someone give me a guarantee on that?
Yes, I'm fully aware that the dreaded day is coming--the one where C starts taking E's trains, biting, and drooling on them. I know they won't always adore each other as much as they do now. But for now, let me appreciate this. He is so crazy about her. SO FAR, he hasn't shown one shred of jealousy. He's always wanting to hug, hold, "burp", and cuddle with her. He's even questioned if he can use my breast pump"horns" to "pump up his Googoos" so that he can feed her too. Don't ask.
He's constantly requesting the I prop her up so that they can "hang out and watch Wittle Einstein's".
She adores him and is constantly smiling in his direction. Nobody can make that girl smile faster than her big brother.
Yep, these two are quite a pair....until this.
E: Mom, set her beside me and take our picture.
Me: Okay, E, I'll send Daddy a pick-me-up at work!
(rumbling tummy sounds followed by an obvious expulsion of processed milk from baby sister right as the camera snapped.)
E: Mom, I don't want to take a picture with her anymore. You can have her.
I mean his face is the look of total submission.
Speaking of pooting, here's a typical convo with this observant almost 3 year old (strangest lead into a story ever):
Scene--driving down the interstate behind a garbage truck.
E: Ewww, Mom, something stinks. Did you poot or did C poot or did I poot?
Me: You pooted, E.
E: (Laughing hysterically--because poots are the funniest, right? RIGHT?) No, I didn't!
Me: No, I think it's actually that garbage truck.
E: (getting very serious) Mom, trucks don't poot.