“A Shitty Situation…….. Literally”

                While driving to work this morning I was running late (what else is new?) It was raining and I looked down at the speedometer and realized as I was flying by the tractor trailers and other morning commuters that I was driving a little recklessly. I always drive a little faster then I should, but mornings during the week are a stressful time for me (as it is for most people), so I’m kind of like get out of my way, or I’ll run you down with my wannabe hearse (Chevy HHR, Google it if you don’t know what that is), on most mornings. This morning however, I realized I was pretty violently weaving through traffic with little regard to slippery roads or thickening traffic (I’m extremely nervous when I drive in bad weather so that says a lot about how I was feeling). While speeding down 95, I had some time to think about my morning and my life as a whole while rushing to make sure I wasn’t more than ten minutes late for work. I decided that I needed an outlet for all the frustrating and comical (at least in my opinion) things that seem to occur on a daily basis in my life. Normally blaring music as soon as I drop my kids at daycare works, but due to commercials on the radio my only option was Kidz Bop 23. So driving down the road, listening to the Gangnam Style, the Kidz Bop version, I decided that I write my feelings out on paper, so why not in a format that allows others who deal with similar experiences to relate to my outrageous experiences, often before 6:00 AM.

 It all started with waking up at 4:30 am and peeling myself out from between my nice warm covers and into the shower. Then I got dressed and packed my stuff up for a day at the office and loaded it into my car. Feeling accomplished at this point I went into my children’s room to wake them up for the day. That’s when it hit me, one of the most awful smells I’ve ever smelled was wafting straight out of their room. I couldn’t believe that smell was coming out of one of my angelic little boys. I went in and picked up Daniel, the source of the stink. He was of course soaked through his clothes wet, but I didn’t see any real evidence that I was about to change the dirty diaper from hell (I know every parent can relate to this, it’s like the horrific smelling diaper that ends up being practically empty). I unsuspectingly pulled down the zipper on his footy PJ’s and reveled what I have to say was the worst diaper blow out I have ever seen.  As you can imagine, I see a lot of blow outs because I have twins. My dad told me he read somewhere that with one baby you change approximately 5,000 diapers, so I’m already looking at 10,000 give or take a few. I would like to count this diaper as 4 diapers. I should have taken a picture and submitted it to the Guinness Book of World Records for biggest quantity of shit ever shat. Anyway, my first thought was “My poor baby boy”; he was screaming and obviously upset. My second thought was “How the hell did this kid sleep through this?” My third thought was “Well F*** another day late to work”. (My furnace had already gone out the past Monday and I had to leave work early on Tuesday due to baby illness, so I’ve been using up the vacation time and my bosses patience pretty quickly this week I suspect). I put Daniel in the bath tub and hosed him down. (I absolutely love the person who invented the removable shower head sprayer thing). Fast forward to getting both babies dressed and loaded in the car.

Over the River and Through the Town of Rising Sun to Grandmother’s house we go:

                Next, drop the babies off at my parent’s house, since sick babies can’t go to daycare. I pulled in the driveway and got the first baby in the house without incident. I walked back out to the car to get Alex and back up the stairs I went. Only to realize I had locked my keys in the house and then had to pound on the door and yell until my mother got out of bed to let me in the house. I’m thinking “really Erica? You couldn’t you know unlock the door or remember your keys?” At this point I was running on nervous energy, which is my go to coping skill when I’m stressed out and running late. (Although since reproducing I am always running late, lateness is one of the things that bothers me the most in the world). My mother let me in; I dropped my kids and started my race to work.

You already know the rest, so until next time. Thus ends the beginning of another Friday morning in the life of this single mommy/working woman.