Friday, the 13th; shoulda known.
(Tales of TMI lie ahead - you have been warned.)
I knew that today was coming soon; I remember looking at the calendar earlier in the month, noticing the day was fast approaching. But then, as quickly as someone will steer clear of a black cat, collapse an umbrella indoors or avoid walking under a ladder, I totally forgot about this foreboding date. When it did arrive, I was oblivious. For me, it was just like any other Friday, the beginning of another glorious weekend. But, I should've known better.
I woke up with Benjamin's warm body, cozily nestled against my chest. He wriggled around, stretched and yawned as the sun beamed into the window, reflected in the mirror atop our dresser and shot directly into our eyes. The light was blinding and at that point, trying to catch more Zzz's would be futile.
As soon as I climbed out of bed, my shadow followed me downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Two pieces of toast, strawberries, yogurt & granola were on the menu this morning. Everything was going smoothly, except my bedhead, when I handed over eating control to the little man. He wielded his green plastic spoon with glee and delight, then began tapping it into the container of dark cherry Tillamook yogurt, as if trying to command the sweet stuff to magically stick to his spoon. He typically manages to get a few bites in before using the spoon as a fiery baton and his other hand as a make-shift yogurt shoveler. At the end of our meal, a good quantity of yogurt was not in his stomach, but splashed on his tray, inside his bib, on his hands, the floor, his face - and much to my dismay, in his hair (we were on a tight schedule this morning and a bath was not in the cards). The discovery of the cherry yogurt 'do lead to a quick leap into the shower.
Unfortunate Event #1 - Cherry Yogurt as Hair Gel Incident
So, after a very hasty clean-up in the kitchen, we headed back up the stairs and into my room. As I was waiting for the shower to warm up, I noticed Benjamin's diaper (which I forgot to change when he first awoke) was dripping wet. Ewww. Dino PJs? Straight to the washer. Super sogged diaper? Straight to it's own trash bag. Dirty, naked boy? Good question. Very good question.
Never fear. Found him. He was in my closet. Standing in a dark corner. Peeing.
Unfortunate Event #2 - Closet Urination Incident
Seriously? Not today. I quickly grabbed a washcloth and some cleaner to sop up the mess... likely muttering to myself that I didn't have time for this. But urine must be dealt with swiftly and effectively; otherwise, bad things happen.
Oh wait, bad things did happen. Were happening. As I was cleaning.
After tossing the washcloth in the hamper and the cleaner in the closet, went on the hunt for dirty, naked boy again.
Never fear. Found him. He was just in our bedroom, next to Dave's side of the bed. Squatting. Grunting. Pooing - and peeing. (My jaw is on the floor by this point.) I hate you, Friday the 13th! Just so you know.
Unfortunate Event #3 - The Poo Incident
I hate poopy diapers (I know, who doesn't?). But poop - found in locations other than a diaper - is just wrong. I used to laugh at stories of other people's kids and their tales of errant poo. I sort-of laughed today. But I nearly cried. I came close to dry heaving during the scooping. And I questioned the unkind nature of the universe.
It was not until hours later that I made the connection: bad things come in 3's - AND - it was the 13th, a Friday. I should have been better prepared. I should have have known.
