The Cherry On Top Of A Whipped-Shit Sundae Day

I've worked night shift for a big portion of each of my kids' young lives, and although getting sleep is always challenging, if I had to work (and I do) at least by working nights, I could still spend a lot of time with my kids during their waking hours. When my boys were little, I got off of work at 6 am, which meant that my (now ex-) husband was getting ready to leave for work, since he had to be there by 7 am.

My tentative schedule went something like this:
6:15 am Arrive at home, change clothes, receive update from their dad
6:30 - 6:45 Wake boys up, change diaper, send oldest two to potty
6:45 - 7:30 Feed them breakfast (maybe I get to eat)
7:30 - 8:00 Get everybody dressed, cleaned from breakfast, teeth brushed
8:00 - 8:15 Take oldest to school (1st grade, all-day)
8:15 - 8:30 Return home, refill sippy cup, change diaper
8:30 - 9:00 Put baby down for morning nap, get middle son invested in TV
8:45 -11:15 Sleep on couch
11:15-11:30 Get baby up, change diapers, have middle son go potty
11:30-11:50 Lunch (I usually ate standing up)
11:50-12:00p Change middle son from lunch, clean up, teeth brushed
12:00-12:15 Take middle son to school (kindergarten, half day)
12:15-12:30 Return home, refill sippy cup, change diaper
12:30- 1:30 Play with baby, clean up house, do some laundry
1:30 - 1:45 Lay baby down for afternoon nap
2:00 - 7:30 Sleep in actual bed

My ex-husband would pick up the boys from school, work on homework, and fix dinner. It sounds kind of frantic and sad when I write it, but it was good because I didn't work every day, so I had many days where I would be up with the kids all day, could cook dinner, and help them with their homework (not exactly a fun thing, but you get the picture.) It's no wonder my ex-husband and I eventually divorced, we barely got to see each other (although in my more retrospective moments, I credit the fact that we barely saw each other as what allowed us to last as long as we did! Oh, the memories... not!)

Ok, I brought up that timeline, so that when I tell you the following story, it would make more sense:

I worked the night before, followed the breakneck-I mean, strict-itinerary of items that had to accomplished: diaper change, clothing change, breakfast, everyone in the car with the oldest son's backpack, dropped my oldest son off at school, came home, and got more drinks. The baby was sleepy (rough night according to his dad) so after getting the middle one busy playing, I laid the baby down early for his morning nap, and laid down myself.

I must have hit the snooze button, because when I got up I was already running late. My middle son was still sleeping, but the baby was awake. He had woken early and found an activy to alleviate the boredom. What initiative! Evidently, he had gotten a nosebleed, and decided that the wall next to his crib would make the best showcase for his Still Life in Blood masterpiece! He had artfully accentuated the mono-chrome abstraction with feces from his own diaper, which he had removed for greater access to his painting materials. Absolutely fucking fabulous!

He was barely one, and didn't know any better, but I am leaving out the total freak-out I had when I saw the blood! It wasn't much, but when you just wake up, your hearts beating because you're already running late, and see blood in your baby's crib, well, it feels like a murder scene with a gallon of blood. So yeah, you could say I had the shit scared out of me. And even then you might be underestimating my response.

After frantically checking him for wounds only to find blood caked in his nose, he received a very quick bath, then diaper change, then new clothes. My middle one woke up during this and cried because he wanted a bath, and it wasn't fair that the baby got to take two baths that day! Cry me a river child, I'm with you on the "not fair" part. I want to yell at my mommy right now too, trust me!

So, after calming down the bath drama, I make the boys lunch and feed them, but instead of eating my lunch, I washed walls, bedding, crib slats, and toys. I did take a quick minute to get something to drink (cherry kool-aid, yum, my favorite) because after freaking out, rushing around, and frantically scrubbing blood and feces I was thirsty. Ok, back to the schedule...

Clean up boys *check,* change middle son into school clothes *check,* change baby into new clothes again, (ketchup, I don't know what I was thinking) *check,* get boys loaded in the car *check,* and take middle son to class *check.* After all of this ... chaos, we were late, so I had to walk him into his class. I talked to his teacher for a few minutes (we weren't super late, just a few minutes) about homework, parent-teacher conferences coming up, and left.

I went to the grocery store and talked to the cashier for a few seconds (I'm a talker, what can I say) about various things - I saw her rather often, our schedules just meshed. I left to go to the gas station, and after pumping the gas, I went inside to get cigarettes. I always bought my cigarettes at the same place, and the owner and I talked for a minute or two as well.

I stopped at the bank to make a deposit (yes, I went inside and talked to the teller) then stopped at McDonald's on the way back, since I hadn't had lunch yet, and I was still thirsty. That kool-aid only went so far, you know.

I drove back home while thinking about how much cleaning was still ahead of me, since I hadn't been able to finish before we had to leave. I parked in the driveway, got the baby out, locked the car, and went to unlock the house ... son of a bitch! I locked the keys in the car! Seriously, could this day get any fucking worse! I had a spare car set, but they were, yep, inside the house, so THAT wouldn't help. If I could get inside to get the keys for the car, I wouldn't need to get in the car to get the house keys!

This was way before cell phones were common, and neither my husband or I had one, and he was at work! What could make this worse? Well, of course, the baby wanted his sippy cup since he's still on schedule, so he started crying and wailing, and I began the "baby dance" to quiet him, while trying to come up with a solution. (The baby dance: the dance that all parents do while holding their cryng children to make them stop crying. After a few kids, when you pick up a baby, you just start moving. I can't explain it, but if you have kids, I don't really need to, do I?)

Well, there's nothing left to do but knock on the neighbor's door. I hadn't really met my neighbors, we had just moved in a couple of months before, and I'm not the most social neighbor anyway, but what else could I do? Surely they wouldn't turn away a young mother with a fussy child.

I knocked several times before she finally answered, and when I asked to use her phone, at first she said no. She didn't have a portable, she said. The baby started screaming in earnest, so that might have changed her mind (she could probably see that I would have stood on her doorstep with a screaming baby until she let me use it) so she capitulated and said that she had a portable in the back of the house and went to get it. When she brought it back, she kept the chain on her door as she gave me the phone to use. WTF? Did I look like a deranged killer? I'm a mom, for Christ's sake! You know what, I am done with this bitch! The next cookout we have, she is definitely NOT invited! I called my husband, who agreed to leave work and let me in. So we waited, the baby and I, for about 20 minutes, swinging on the front porch swing. The baby finally quieted, and I was just ... existing. Oh, what a day!

My husband screeches up, runs up to the front door, and unlocks it (Thank you!) then turns to me and busts out laughing.

"Ha ha, locked the keys in the car, so fucking funny," and I started into the house. He continued to laugh. He was bent double, laughing so hard that he can barely talk. Fuck you, I thought as I headed inside. Whatever, asshole! It's not that funny! He followed me, still laughing.

"Alright, what exactly is so funny, because I'm getting pissed, this had been a super- shitty day so far, and locking my keys in the car absolutely doesn't seem like it's fall down funny to me, so ... What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Laughing. At?!?!?"

"Were you thirsty today, honey?" with more laughing.

"Yeah, I had something to drink when I was feeding the boys lunch, why?"

"Have you looked in a mirror?" he finally got out.

"No.... Again, why?" I asked cautiously, as I headed to the bathroom to find a mirror.

I looked in the mirror. Oh my God! I had a kool-aid smile halfway up my face! I looked like the fucking joker! That's the freakin cherry on top of this "whipped shit sundae" of a day! All those people I talked to.. and no one said a word!