It's been that kind of day. And in the interest of good mental health I'm going to just brain-barf and get it over with. (Thank you Sarah! That's my new favorite phrase. heee.)
I don't know what's wrong with Jonah. He vomits every morning! Of course he gives no warning, makes no sound until he's almost done, and never seems to be near a vinyl surface. Anyway, he's fine the rest of the day. Sunday was the exception though, he vomited that morning but was lethargic and crabby all day. He took two naps - NEVER! happens. Then this morning he's finer than frog's hair. The only common thread I can see that would link Friday, Saturday and Sunday would be milk with breakfast but none the rest of the day. Today he had toast and applesauce, no milk at all. Tomorrow morning I'll give him milk and see what happens. Sudden onset of a milk allergy?
Mary-Beth will NOT... I repeat, will NOT sleep beyond 4am now since the time change. WTH?! She slept until 7 before that, which should translate to at least 6am now with DST. Again I say, WTH?! And of course, when she's up Jonah has to be up. God forbid he should miss out on any action. Or *gasp* what if she gets a graham cracker and he doesn't?!!! The Earth may just shift on its axis.
So I finally made the commitment to go mall-walking after dropping Ashley off at school, and today was Day #1 of Dellaina's New Fitness Thing. I was a good girl at Starbucks - americano instead of a sugary latte. I even splurged on a bottle of water that nobody else has ever laid their lips on. To my knowledge. Ew. I can't even think about that.
So anyway, I'm about 10 minutes into my first walk, I'm good and sweaty, borderline frothy, feelin' pretty sporty (read: able to imagine I look like Yoga Pants and not like Frumpy McFrumpinhousen) when the left rear tire on my double stroller flew off. (Yes, I did have to chase it down.) So I drug the stroller and both babies back to the van in disgust. I was encouraged and heartened by all the grandparents who were also mall-walking, they virtually gushed over the babies. Who can resist a sweet little 18-month-old girlie who waves and says, "Diiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" (a.k.a. bye) or an almost-3-year-old boy who will sing "If You're Happy And You Know It Clap Your Hands" - complete with motions and fancy footwork - to anyone who wants to hear it. Glimmer of hope for the rest of the day.
On the way home - after pricing new jogging strollers at Target - I decided to brave the Winco store. (Why isn't anyone around to slap me on the back of the head when I have stupid ideas?) I had Mary-Beth in the BabyHawk Mei Tai (front carry b/c I wasn't wearing the right shirt for modest back carrying) and Jonah in the cart. Would you believe they still found a way to annoy each other? And I keep a running $ tally on a little tablet, but I had to write waaaaay up in the air because Mary-Beth was convinced that, because she could reach the pen, she was entitled to the pen. So, since I don't have that nifty-noodle Seinfeld Astronaut Pen, I kept having to thwap-thwap-thwap my pen against my to get it to work.
Somewhere in bulk foods Jonah said his tummy was hurting. Oh man. So while trying to dump the contents of my purse's protector into the basket part of the purse, I wound up dumping the whole purse on the floor. Double crap. Coins and other purse fodder skittering everywhere. So picture me on the floor, Mary-Beth on my front, biiiiiig old butt in the air, schlepping up my purse's guts from under the bulk food containers and shoving them in a plastic bag. Grrrrrreat. By the time I was able to hand Jonah the protector he said he didn't have a tummy ache anymore.
!!!
Is it wrong to actually wish your child would vomit?
The checkout was a nightmare! Trying to unload the cart with Mary-Beth on my front grabbing everything out of my hands. Jonah reaching back and throwing things onto the conveyor. So it was a one-item-at-a-time thing and it wasn't at ALL organized the way my anal little grocery store self likes to do it. Meat together, produce together, boxed stuff together, bulk food stuff together, deli stuff together... y'get me? All neat and tidy coming down the pike. A professional grocery bagger's dream. No such luck today.
And then???
There I am, bagging my own groceries, minding. my own. business. When this... this... woman! has the nerve to give me a disgusted look on her way out the door. I have NO idea what it was about. Nobody was screaming or crying, none of us smells bad, my ponytail looked especially Yoga Pantsy today, and I'm pretty sure I didn't shoot her dog... no rhyme, no reason. I actually said out loud, "Do you have a problem?" complete with the sideways head shake. You know the one.
But thankfully she didn't hear me. I'm all talk, and I'm pretty "come and get me" on the surface, but I don't really want to confront people. Well, I do... I just don't want them to confront me. I'm too good at arguing and it gets me into trouble. So I guess it's a good thing she didn't hear me.
I might have served her up a Thin Little Slice of Hell.
