Well it is only getting better around here people. My parenting skillz, I mean. I am just really nailing it. Yesterday was yesterday - today is a new day. A fresh start to making Sam's life awesome and minimize his need for therapy in the future.
Today was a clean slate that I just threw up McDonalds allllll over.
(Literal on the McDonalds, figurative on the vomit)
Today and tomorrow are glorious days for the world as they are the birthdays of Jessica and Me, now 30 and 30 + 364 days respectively (tomorrow I will be 30 + 365 - let's not rush things).
Here is us at Jessica's 30th birthday party.
Here is also us circa 2003 age 19 and 20.
Yikes and you are welcome. That's in our college apartment. I'm wearing her shirt and my Express belt is showing; she is wearing white eyeliner and her belly is showing. You can't hear this through the post (you're welcome for that) but I am doing a lovely rendition of "Memories" right now as I type.
Ok ANYWHOO. It was decided that birthday lunch would be at McDonald's (there's your M. Night Shyamalan twist) with The Boys (Lucas and Sam, duh).
It was a lovely lunch.
One would assume that when we get together we have a sort of Captain Planet like approach to parenting "When Our Powers Combine!!!" No. We subtract skills instead of add and that is how Sam ended up eating an entire packet of Sweet and Sour Sauce before either of us noticed.
He was DYING to play with the packet of Sweet and Sour Sauce and I was DYING to not parent him and talk to Jessica about the new throw pillows I got yesterday and yada yada yada, Sam's one top tooth (ol' chomper) punctured the delicate skin of the packet and he went to town.
He was the happiest he has ever been.
Who wouldn't be? That stuff is delicious. He's 10 months old and he basically took a bath in sugar syrup with no supervision. Oh my god! What is wrong with me?! In my former life I could manage the heck out of 21 - six year olds with the greatest of ease. I had classroom management like no one's business. ONE BABY and it is just apparently too much. He is my kryptonite.
The kicker is we are heading out tonight for dinner with people from Chuck's work. Hence, he needs to look appropriate. Oooh, pronoun misuse. Who needs to look appropriate? Sam or Chuck? Both, really, but Sam is who I am responsible for (Chuck was demoted on May 4th, 2013).
We got home from our sticky adventure and that kid needed a bath like you wouldn't believe. No white trash Pamper's Wipes Bath was going to work. I needed actual water and actual soap to scrub the scent of McDonald's off him. It was palpable. No one was going to believe I'm a fit mother if I show up to work dinner with a dirty, sticky child who smells like they were working the frier.
I got the bath going.
Got the babe undressed.
Managed to not get peed on OR impale him with anything (a win after yesterday).
I even added bubbles to the bath!
Wow - I am doing a great job, I thought. Sam will be clean and smell Johnson and Johnson good for tonight. I made a great choice to real bathe him. I am redeeming myself.
I left both his socks on in the bath and dragged soapy bath water all over my floors.
The kicker is, I am trying so hard at motherhood. I am giving this 100%. Which terrifies me. What if I was half you-know-whatting this? This is me at my all-in best. Get it together Susan.
I should make a kickstarter account for his therapy fund.