TGIF! First Friday as a Working Mama: Thankful for Friday, Family, Puddle Jumping, Dinners I Didn’t Make, Farts, Speed Dry Cycle, Lysol Wipes and Spare Sheets

We survived our first week at work/daycare!  Hurray!  It’s worth noting that I went back on Thursday so it was only a 2 day work week but still;  We did it!  The babes had a blast at daycare.  They played hard with the other kids and were exhausted each night.  On our first Friday in our new routine, I was re-introduced to Friday night commuter traffic.  I did not miss that…at all!  Since I had the car seats in my car, I had to pick the kids up but asked Hubby if he could take care of dinner.  I’m quickly realizing that I can’t do everything.  I can’t sit in deadly rush hour traffic, pick the kids up and make dinner every night.  Hubby and I are working on adjusting our roles to help each other out and make it work.  It worked out well.  The kids and I arrived home to a fabulous, delicious meal that I didn’t make!  WOW!  I could get used to that!  Hubby made stuffed chicken breasts, roasted potatoes and steamed veggies.  What a treat!  He could have made Kraft Dinner with hot dogs and I would have been just as excited simply because I didn’t have to make it but Shhh… don’t tell him because this dinner was delicious!  What a role reversal!  I was the one walking through the door in real clothes, real shoes and makeup, laptop in tow to dinner on the table.  Awesome!

I’m working on quick dinner ideas and crockpot recipes but Hubby and I decided that he would take care of dinner once a week since he works closer to home than I do.  I think those days will quickly become my favourite days.

After dinner, I put 23 month old Miss M’s rain boots and rain coat on as well as my own and we went outside to stomp in the puddles on a rainy but mild night.  I had to chase her around the front yard when we arrived at home because she just wanted to play in the rain so going outside after dinner was our compromise.  Hubby and 1 year old Mr. C followed us as we ran up and down the street splashing in the water that had collected along the curb.  What a blast!  After Hubby and Mr. C went inside to run a bath, Miss M and I puddle jumped 10 more laps and then I had to carry her inside kicking and screaming against her will.  It was starting to get cold but she would have been happy to stay out there all night.

Both babes were bathed, dressed in pajamas and read bedtime stories.  I read Miss M her story in her room while Hubby rocked Mr. C in his room.  Miss M started shouting “Pop pop pop!” She is absolutely in love with the book “Toot and Pop” but we couldn’t find it.  I thought it was in Mr. C’s room and figured that was where she was running to when she climbed off of my lap and out the door.  Instead, she ran to my and Hubby’s bedroom and climbed on our bed, laid down and put her thumb in her mouth.  She wanted to cuddle.  Who can say no to that?  We had an awesome Friday night snuggle on our bed and then I tucked her in to her crib.  Mr. C was fast asleep in his crib after a long and busy day.

Hubby was anxious to take me out for drinks to celebrate my first week back to work and had secretly arranged for my mom to watch the kids.  We needed a couple of things at the store.  I tackled folding a couple of loads of laundry that I had neglected while at work while he ran out to the grocery store.  I was tired.  Exhausted.  Training is exhausting.  Thinking is exhausting.  Commuting is exhausting and doing all of it on no sleep due to a restless mind and uncontrollable nerves and worries makes it even more tiring.  When Hubby came home just before 8pm he suggested I just go to bed.  I wasn’t about to go to bed at 8pm but appreciated that he was also okay with just staying in.  I washed my makeup off and changed into comfy clothes.   I’m pretty sure sweatpants and bare feet have never felt better.  We decided to watch a movie.  My sister had recommended “Parental Guidance” with Billy Crystal, Bette Midler and Marissa Tomei. She figured we would get a kick out of it given our crazy, 2 baby life.  She often says that spending a day with me in our house would be a much better birth control lesson for high school kids than learning how to put a condom on a banana in sex-ed class.  We opened a bottle of wine and made a yummy platter of cheese, crackers, pita, hummus and cucumber slices and settled in to watch a movie for the first time in months, if not over a year.

This movie made me laugh out loud right from the beginning since we could immediately relate to all of the kid/parenting chaos presented.  After about 20 minutes of relaxation, we heard Miss M start to whimper.  We paused the movie and I walked toward the stairs to go check on her only to have her stop whimpering each time.  This happened about five times at which point I decided to go upstairs and see what was wrong.  When I opened her door, she was sitting up with both legs hanging through the slats of her crib.  At first I thought she was stuck.  She wasn’t.  I picked her up figuring that after a couple of long days, she might just need some Mommy and Daddy time.  I brought her downstairs and sat her on my lap on the couch.  Hubby turned our movie off and put on an episode of Dora the Explorer instead.  As I reached for a blanket to cover us, Miss M whimpered then immediately threw up more than what I knew her tiny, little body could hold.  She was scared and projectile vomiting.  I sat still and tried to catch it with the blanket, calming her so she wouldn’t get even more upset.  She vomited all over me, all over herself, all over the couch, the floor, our snack platter but worst of all… all over “Bee,” her beloved blanket that she will not be separated from under any circumstances.  “Bee” is irreplacable.  No other crocheted blanket can stand in.  Ever.  Dammit.

Hubby poured a bowl of soapy water and a wash cloth to sponge bathe her.  We stripped her down, washed her up and I tossed Hubby a fresh pair of pajamas from the pile of folded laundry that was still sitting on the love seat after I gave up on laundry.  I gathered her soiled pajamas, blanket, bedding then took my own puked-on clothes off and threw the whole pile into the washing machine.  Catching up on laundry is always rewarded with unexpected extra loads of laundry.  While they washed, I cleaned up all of the puke, scrubbed the couch and washed the floor.  The floor needed it.  I wasn’t planning on washing it today but it worked out well.

Miss M cuddled up with her Daddy and sipped on ginger ale in a sippy cup to settle her tummy as they watched what Dora was up to while I remade her bed and checked the washing machine 1000 times to see how much longer it would be before “Bee” was clean, knowing she would not go back to bed easily without it.  Just as I sat down to cuddle with them, I heard a whimper and then a cry.  It was Mr. C.  He was up and was not happy.  I ran up to his room where he was sitting up, barely awake with tears streaming down his face.  I picked him up and he immediately flailed, arching his back, screaming in distress.  Baby gas.  What nightmares are made of.  The poor little guy.  As I walked out of his room, he let out a huge, loud fart.  Yes, fart.  It was not a toot.  It was a fart.  He looked startled by it, looking up at me with his big blue eyes as if to say “What just happened?”  I hoped that it gave him a bit of relief and walked downstairs to check on the status of Miss M, her blanket in the washer and to make him a bottle.

He didn’t want the bottle.  He was in pain.  I laid him down and pumped his legs to try to get the gas to move.  He screamed and screamed.  Miss M looked over as if to say “Can you keep it down?  I’m trying to watch Dora!”  I picked him up and held him on his tummy to try to change the positioning of the gas and relieve some pressure.  He stopped screaming when I stood up.  When I tried to sit back down, he screamed.  So I stood back up.  I bounced him in my arms as I went down to the basement to throw “Bee” in the dryer on the “Speed Dry” cycle.  When I came back upstairs, Hubby had bravely decided to bring a very tired Miss M back up to bed without her favourite blanket.  I was shocked that she had gone back to sleep without it.

Hubby put the movie back on and I bent down to sit on the couch.  As my butt was just about to touch the couch, Mr. C started screaming.  So I shot back up.  I continued to enjoy a relaxing night watching a movie while standing up holding the world’s heaviest baby in my arms.  My feet and legs were killing me.  My little man did not seem to understand that my body was sore from adjusting to wearing heels all day.  Heels are an acquired skill, especially after rarely even wearing socks, nevermind shoes for almost 2 years.  As I stood beside the couch, Miss M started screaming again.  Hubby, Mr. C and I ran up to check on her.  She had waken up and thrown up all over everything again.  This time it was just stomach bile.  Poor baby.  She must have some sort of bug.  Hubby scooped her out of her crib, stripped her down, washed her up and brought her back downstairs while I held Mr. C.  I passed Mr. C to him as well so I could strip her bed again and disinfect it.  Poor Hubby sat with both babies screaming on his lap as I brought more puked on linens down to the laundry room, got fresh pajamas, disinfected her mattress and remade her bed.

Mr. C was screaming hysterically at this point so Hubby passed him off to me so I could try to settle him while Miss M cuddled in beside me.  Hubby ran down and grabbed Miss M’s freshly dried and warm “Bee” from the dryer.  I don’t know what I would do without a “Speed Dry” cycle on my dryer.  It is a life saver during times like these.  Miss M was quickly settled as soon as she was reunited with “Bee” and went back to bed.  Mr. C had a couple of big farts but was still hurting.  Pumping his legs and rubbing his tummy wasn’t helping.  Until I had kids, I never experienced the feeling of excitement/relief when another person would let a huge, loud, stinky fart rip.  It’s kind of funny how things change.  I am never even a little bit excited when Hubby stinks up the room with a fart.

I decided to try giving Mr. C a nice warm bath to get him some relief.  Hubby ran up and poured it while I threw the next puked on linens in the washing machine with one hand while I balanced Mr. C on my hip.  I ran back up, stripped him down and tried to put him in the tub but he straightened his back and legs so that I couldn’t sit him down.  He was not getting in there by himself.  No way.  So, I passed him to Hubby, undressed and hopped in the tub and held him on my lap.  I poured nice, warm water over his belly and it helped immediately.  He started to relax and then giggle and splash.  He happily played in the tub on my lap while Hubby sat on the closed toilet beside us and we had the “So how was your day?” talk because things like this are actually completely normal to us now.

After putting fresh pajamas on Mr. C and tucking him in, Hubby and I went down to put the movie back on.  We got about 30 minutes into it again before Miss M was up and had thrown up all over everything again.  Then Mr. C was up screaming with gas pains again.

We gave up on the movie and went to bed.  Before falling asleep, I ran down to throw the laundry in the dryer in case we needed it again.  We had run out of crib sheets and mattress protectors so had used a towel covered with a regular sized bed sheet for the last bed stripping.

Miss M and Mr. C took turns waking up throwing up/ waking up screaming in pain all night until about 5am.  For someone who was so tired, she could have gone to bed at 8pm, this was an exhausting night for me.  Friday nights after a work week are a little different from what I remember.  This is another huge adjustment from stay-at-home-mom to working mama.  Fridays mean NOTHING once you are a parent whether you are working or not.  Regardless of the relaxation deprivation, puke farts and laundry, it’s wonderful to be home with our little family after a long couple of days.  Life is good.

 

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you enjoyed this post, please follow my blog or like my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts!  Thanks for reading! xo

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