Mama said there'd be days like this

Okay, so not really. It seems like my mom never complained about anything--that I can remember. Is that why she could have seven children and I am drowning with my two? No, really today was a doozy (and it's only 10:45 am!).

Once a week I meet a friend and her little son to run around Green Lake (a fabulous park, path, lake in Seattle). We went this morning. It was "soggy" (Syd's term for foggy), but actually a nice morning to run. I spent a good portion of last night collecting items for the run/day since we meet at 7:30 am and the kids wake up right around 7. When I went to bed I remember thinking, "boy I am good. I have planned perfectly--tomorrow is going to be GREAT!" I totally jinxed myself.

So the kids wake up, I have everything loaded in the car, but Sydney does not want to wear the clothes I have set out for her. Then she complains that her socks feel too tight . . .

We get to Green lake and I load the kids into the jogger and we get running. Now, the highlight of the morning (other than meeting my good friend to run) was running into another good friend with whom I used to work. She just had a baby last fall and I have wanted to see her forever! Oddly enough my running partner knew this gal too--so of course we chatted for a minute and went crazy over all of the kids.

The rest of the run was uneventful. We stopped by the playground to cool down and let the kids blow off some steam. Sydney soon reported that she had to go to the bathroom. Since work is being done on the community center the only bathroom option was an outhouse. As I RAN her to the outhouse (since she has been waiting too long to go lately and manages to go to the bathroom in her clothes in the bathroom), we opt for the wheelchair accessible option since it's a bit larger--no toilet paper. I remember thinking, "Sara Gillespie, this is why diapers are great!" So we venture into a smaller option and we make it in time (HOORAY!). Well, as I am helping the curious kiddo out (she is wondering what all the "stuff" is "down there") and heaving in the process, I realize I have been rubbing up against the URINAL!! This is why I usually pick the wheelchair sized one! We walk out--now there's no soap at the hand washing stations. No worries--wipes and hand sanitizer in the car.

We go meet back up with my friend so we can retrieve Simon and rush Sydney off to preschool. As I am putting Simon back into the stroller I get a faint scent of a baD bAD BAD diaper! No problem, wipes and diaps in the car.

We get to the car and I realize, oh this delightful treasure created by my son is all over is pants, shoes, socks, undershirt, legs . . . and then I think I even suspect some on my shirt (I already have urine all over my pants). I promptly clean him up and throw him in some clothes (which I had just given to my friend since they were too small for Si--but of course I did not have an emergency outfit with me).

I hurry and do Sydney's hair and she decides that she wants one orange ribbon and one brown one--hummm.

Okay, now to preschool (which starts in 10 minutes and is probably 15 minutes away). Yes, teacher Marybeth said, "there's no such thing as being late for preschool," but I say, "humm I have paid for that time and by dang she's going to be there for ALL of it!"

As I am driving my lovely fuel gage's yellow light (which has been on for a few days) is screaming "out of gas, out of gas, out of gas!" I veer off to fill up and resign myself to the fact that, "being late to preschool is okay today."

We pull up to the school and while Sydney is getting out she manages to see the "Mary Poppins" DVD that we have rented in my purse. She acts as though I am betraying her to take it back to the store. She gets very emotional and as I coerce her out of the car she says, "I don't feel much like playing today." Eventually we make it into school (9:20 am) . Her teacher notices that we are not ourselves today and tells Sydney about all of the great things they are going to do since Sydney also told her that she wasn't up for playing today. I grab Simon who wants to stay--and oh how I wanted him to--and we drive home.

Now we are both finally cleaned up, fed and can you guess . . . ready for a nap. The sad realization on my part--a large part of the stress was induced by me. Why on earth would anyone pack a morning that busy with two kids under four? Maybe this is why my mom didn't complain, maybe she was smarter and knew that playing hide and seek in the covers would be a lot more relaxing. I will learn . . .