Feb
19
Yesterday was JB’s first day back to work and my first day alone with both children. Things started off with a bang —or more appropriately, a BLEURGH— at about 6 AM when Dylan horked the entirety of his morning feeding all over our bed, JB’s half-asleep body in particular. After JB left for the office, I managed to get Riley into his clothes and fed before Dylan woke up, at which point I fed the baby and strapped him in the front carrier where he instantly fell asleep. Feeling like SuperMom, I strode confidently down the hall to the living room, where I was assaulted by the reek of toddler poo. I briefly fantasized about a glorious day in the future when at least one kid would start crapping somewhere other than his own pants, and took Riley to his room to change him. Wearing Dylan on my front, I lifted Riley onto his low futon bed and bent over him to deal with his diaper. At some point during this process I felt my back register an Official Complaint, but since I was committed to the task at hand I ignored it, until 5 minutes later back in the living room I tried to pick Riley up to look out the window at a garbage truck outside and my back went, FUCK YOU. (Those of you who issued dire warnings about exercising are probably entitled to at least one loud obnoxious I toooold you so, although I think the problem had more to do with my weak abdominal muscles and overtaxed back.)
My back went out so thoroughly I couldn’t even straighten up. I took Dylan out of the carrier and realized I had another diaper to contend with, so I lurched down to the baby’s changing table while crouched over like Quasimodo. Riley scampered behind, demanding to be put on our bed so he could “sing to Diwwan”. Cute, except I couldn’t lift him, and his reaction to that was to have himself a big old screaming tantrum while I wrestled Dylan’s diaper off. It was only after I had the diaper undone and the baby’s poopy butt exposed that I realized the wipes container was empty, so holding Dylan’s feet in one hand (so he wouldn’t get them covered in poo) I had to flail blindly for the wipes refill package in a drawer, drag it out with one fingernail, and tear it open with my teeth, MEANWHILE Riley had wandered over to the bedroom door and closed it and was now yelling for me to OPEN DA DOOR MOMMY, over and over, and then of course Dylan peed all over everything and in the midst of getting him wiped up and dried and changing his onesie I lunged — still hunched over — to the door for a second to let Riley out, and which point he went to the outside of the door, shut it, and started screaming to be LET BACK IN.
A few minutes later I sent an email S.O.S. to JB, which basically read DOT DOT DOT DASH DASH DASH HALP. And my husband, to whom I do not attribute nearly enough credit on a regular basis, came home from work early to help me, because I was 1) an invalid at that point, thanks to my fubar’d back and 2) halfway to being Britney-level insane.
Today has been better. Which is good, because it is my birthday — 34, my GOD — and all I wanted for my Very Special Day was a little less chaos, thank you very much. Well, that and maybe a dessert containing at least forty thousand calories.
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Happy Birthday! I hope your back is better soon!
Happy birthday! =D
Oh gosh, your writing is the best, it’s the absolute best. That second paragraph (about the Dylan diaper change and Riley’s attention-seeking antics) so perfectly conveyed the pandemonium and your pain and the whole scene. Wow – I think we were all living it with you, and you painted that picture in only a few words. You’re AWESOME. And it’s sunny today on your birthday – score!!
Happy birthday, Linda! Sorry about your back. I actually threw mine out yesterday too, and was imagining how miserable I would have been if I had little kids at home and a fubar’d back. My sympathies. Doesn’t it suck how it’s always some little stupid thing that does it. Last time I threw mine out, it was because I was trying to run up the stairs naked after a shower (no towels! eek! owwwww!) and yesterday it was because I dared to stand on one foot while putting a boot on the other one. WTF?
Happy Birthday! I hope your back gets better soon.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! That right there was a super awesome play-by-play. It has to get easier, right?
Happy, happy birthday!
Happy Birthday, Linda!!! You deserve a break and lots of yummy calories!!
Happy birthday! I hope it is fabulous.
Also, JB is awesome to come home and help you out.
happy birthday!
Happy Birthday, Linda! My sympathies on the back, I know how painful that is. Just how it affects EVERY.SINGLE.MOVEMENT. Even the slightest, tiniest ones. Hope it feels better soon, that the pukefest ends soon, and that the 40,000 calorie makes its way to your tummy soon.
Happy Birthday! I’m sorry, but your account of the day made me laugh. I’m sure it wasn’t funny at the time (esp. the back–yikes!), but it’s pretty entertaining anecdotally.
Hope you get that dessert. Ice Cream cake from DQ or Baskin Robbins always does it for my b-day. Add hot fudge; insert in mouth.
You are very calm relating these terrible events, which is…a little scary.
Happy birthday!
Happy Birthday! You deserve at least 40,000 calories, if not more.
Also, you are singlehandedly setting back my husbands “let’s have another one” campaign by like, years.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LINDA!!!!
Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday!
Wishing you a very merry birthday!
Mother’s backs are NOT allowed to go out, especially NOT when said mother is recovering from a Csection AND adjusting to life with 2 kids under 3.
The universe owes you, BIG TIME.
Happy Birthday dear. Hope it went really smoothly.
Happy Birthday! I hope your back feels better soon!
Dear sweet jebus, I had a panic attack just reading this. All of the sudden, the urge for another baby has completely disappeared.
On the brighter side, Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday!
I have 3 kids under 4 and I will tell you my mantra – It will get better, It will get better… And you know what it does. My third is 3 months now and it is so much easier.
Happy Birthday, Linda. Let met just assure you that it gets easier! But I’ve got to say, I have 5 & 3 year old sons and am seriously thinking about number 3 and seeing Dylan’s baby pictures made me think “oh yeah, I am so ready for another” but then hearing about the spit up and poop and all that fun is making think “am I crazy??!!!”
Seriously…it gets easier, I promise!
happy birthday!! welcome to the “34” club. lordy.
Happy birthday!!
Happy Birthday Sundry!!!
Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday!! Hopefully it all just gets easier from here (too bad they just get heavier from here though!)
Happy Birthday!!!
No wonder I like your blog so much, you Pisces, you! I’m a fellow water sign, a Scorpio. Does that make me a freak for even considering that stuff?
It’s the abs that are probably killing your back. But you’ve got muscle memory from all that exercise in the past and you’ll hopefully be back to yourself pretty soon. Here’s hoping that your back gets some rest and you’re feeling better soon!
Happy Birthday.
It will get easier, may take a while but someday you’ll look back on this and have a good laugh (with the exception of the back injury of course).
Happy Birthday! Also: man, do I feel like a wuss for complaining about my kid when I only have one to deal with!
Happy Birthday! And, oh my lord.
Happy Birthday!!! I promise, it does get easier. Really. I have three boys and went through the two-in-diapers-at-a-time situation as there’s only 1 yr and 2 mos between the youngest two. I feel ya!
I’m sending best birthday wishes to you, healing prayers for your back, and yummy hopes for lots of chocolate with no annoying birthday candles to get in the way.
Happy Birthday!
Happy B-day! Hope it was hork-free.
Happy birthday! Sorry you had to deal with so many bodily fluids (NOT YOURS) on your birthiest of days. Take it easy on the back.
You need a massage, too.
Happy Birthday Sundry! Sounds like you got your hands full. I threw my back out a week ago from getting out of a hammock (old person!) and that Ben Gay (old person!) shit helped fo sho.
Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday! You deserve all the best.
And uh, I have to tell you, dude. I know — AH KNOW — that this day was awful, and I’m truly sorry. Except you told it so well that I honestly cannot stop laughing, because I can picture you far too vividly all Quasimodo’d out plucking out the wipes, with Riley at the door (IN OUT IN OUT) and it’s TOO MUCH. I can’t stop. I’m sorry. It’s priceless, and it’s one of your best.
So there’s that. A little birthday gift from me: utter hysterics at your awful, painful predicament.
I truly hope you feel better.
Happy birthday, and chocolate cake to you!
I hereby declare you a SAINT for not erupting like Mount St. Helen’s yesterday (because I think I might have) and hope you have the best chocolate money can buy tonight and edible candles, too!
Happy birthday!
Happy Birthday Linda!
(and a *cyberpunch* to Naomi the Strange for her HAHA funny! potty-training joke)
First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you. Secondly, your post reminded me that I’m not the only one with a screaming infant that wants to be constantly attached to the boob and the older son that wants to know when dinner is coming. Thank you. Hang in there! Enjoy the 40,000 calorie dessert and watch that TurboJam on the couch next time!
Happy birthday! May your back be much better and your days get better quickly. Enjoy the 40,000 calories!
Happy birthday, Super Mom! You’re rockin’ this 2-kid thing!
Aw! Happy birthday! I hope you found a little bit of time to do something nice for yourself!
Granted I don’t know shit about kids, babies or how to raise them, but I’m sure that like anything, it will get a million times easier once you establish a routine!
Happy happy birthday! Yeah, that back stuff bites after baby arrivals. I saw a physical therapist and it helped immensely. I’ve heard that cheesecake helps too.
As a birthday treat, I will refrain from mentioning poop and chocolate cake in the same post.