I was emptying my bladder this morning and I hear my 4-year-old panic and holler a blood curdling scream from down the hallway “MOM! Hurry!” I stop mid-stream and bolt to see which child is injured. In route, I quickly review all my first aid knowledge from nursing school. I swing the kids bathroom door open ready to begin CPR or splint a broken arm and instead I am greeted with a smiling naked 4-year-old sitting on the potty. “Can you wipe me?” Ugh. Really? I take a deep breath and allow my heart to stop racing then I ask my little blonde cutie “Teagan? Did you have to scream my name like someone was dying?” “Sorry mommy. My cartoon is on a commercial. I gotta hurry.” She innocently replies. I wipe her fanny and wash up and realize…mmm? The soap dispenser needs more soap. I look under the sink and find the liquid soap and start to fill it when I hear another cry from my son’s room“Mom? Where are my shoes?” “In your closet??” I guess. “Nope. I looked there already.” “I don’t know buddy. Where did you leave them?” “I don’t know?” He responds. I walk in his room to help him locate his shoes that hide from him every morning before school. As I lift up a dirty pair of underwear and some baseball pants I find his shoes…in his closet. “Thanks mom. I looked there. I just didn’t look under the pants.” He says with a little embarrassment and a big relief. I smile at him and roll my eyes. “Mom?” I hear my name…again…this time from the girls bedroom. I walk in to find Molly scouring through her closet. “Yes?” I answer. “What’s the temperature today?” I look out the window. There is no snow…there is no rain. I feel the window. It is cold to the touch so I take all this info and answer my daughter. “It’s 56!” “Thanks mom.” She smiles and grabs a long sleeve t-shirt for school. Maggie is standing in her crib peeping over the top rail watching her big sister get dressed for school. I pick her up because I can’t resist that little 2 tooth smile. She hugs my hip like a koala bear and saturates my t-shirt with her soaked diaper. Holy cow…she needs a diaper change right away. I gently lay her on the changing table and clean her up. One saturated PJ goes in the laundry and as I reach to grab a new diaper, I see that there are none. Dang it…I hate that. I have a new box in the car but never brought them inside. I carry my naked baby downstairs and rob a diaper from the diaper bag. Molly and Flynn are right behind me asking “What’s for breakfast?” I distract them with an assignment “Pick out a snack for school and put it in your book bag.” They do so and I use the time to strap my little redneck baby in her high chair wearing only a diaper and throw some Cheerios on the tray to keep her happy. Since I am holding Cheerios, I pour some for Molly and Flynn. “Mom?” My bold 6-year-old says. “What? What is the problem?” I answer impatiently. “You gave us Maggie’s cereal.” “Huh?” I question her. She looks at Flynn and they both giggle. “You gave us baby cereal.” “No. I gave you Cheerios. Cheerios are good for you. Eat them and zip it.” I gave her “the eye”. She knows to stop speaking and reluctantly eats her Cheerios like a good soldier but she isn’t happy. Sometimes I wonder where I have gone wrong. I’m pretty sure I ate whatever was put in front of me when I was young.
I finally make a cup of coffee and grab a jar of baby food for Maggie. She is like a little bird opening her mouth with anticipation of every bite. In between bites I day-dream and remember that I never finished peeing this morning and.. oh yeah….I also have pee on my shirt. The big kids finish up their breakfast and brush their teeth. As much as I would love to complete my task of feeding Maggie…I must get the kids on the bus. “Teagan? Would you like to be my helper for a minute?” She abandons The Micky Mouse Clubhouse to fulfill my request. She is a sucker when I word it like that. Every 4 year-old likes to have a job! She runs into the kitchen wide-eyed and eager to help. “Can you feed Maggie for me?” “Sure!” She squeals. I usually don’t allow her to feed the baby for obvious reasons but when I get desperate the rules change. By the way, changing the rules when you get desperate to benefit yourself is another example of excellent parenting. I walk the kids to the end of the driveway, get them on the bus and while I’m there I realize that I forgot to check the mail yesterday. I grab the mail and hurry back inside. On my walk up the driveway I mentally celebrate “woo hoo! I only have 2 kids for the next 8 hours.” My celebration is interrupted when I open the door.
There she is! My little white trash baby. She is sitting all alone in her diaper..smiling from ear to ear covered in baby food, gnawing on a baby spoon. Norm is licking the baby food on her feet making her giggle. I drop the mail on the counter and confront my babysitter. “Teagan?” I thought you were gonna be my helper this morning?” She yells from the family room “Maggie wanted to do it all herself.” Well? That’s what I get for leaving a 4-year-old in charge for 3 minutes. I wipe her off and carry her upstairs for a bath.
I look around. It looks like a big ass tornado whipped through my home. Empty cereal bowls, school papers and unopened mail all over the countertop, toothpaste in the sink, baby food splattered everywhere, unmade beds, dirty laundry all over the floor. I walk upstairs and brush my teeth and look in the mirror. I have pee on my shirt and baby food smudged on my shoulder. It seems like a lifetime ago when I was interrupted from the toilet to wipe a 4-year old fanny. And I wonder why I am going crazy. I haven’t completed a thought in 7 years. I’m a chef, a weatherman, an ass wiper, a shoe finder, a bus stop companion, a laundry doer, a spoon feeder, a mail checker and a maid and it’s only 8:55am. I am not even safe peeing anymore. Let’s face it, my life is a constant interuption. Now…where was I?