Just One of THOSE Days

I guess this story would begin with some friends visiting from Sweden. We decided to get together in Provo, where they were staying with family, to have a nice dinner. "Having a nice dinner" for me meant I had to start cooking around 3:00 so I could be in the car around 4:30 to get gas, pick James up from work and then meet our friends in South Provo. All was going fairly well and we were only mildly behind schedule when Zoe started getting restless in her carseat. She had been in it for a while and despite our assurances that we were almost there, she would not relax. About a block away from our destination, Mount Zoe blew her top, spewing forth it's contents (which of late included strawberry milk, toast, cottage cheese, and a vast amount of Goldfish crackers).

What great timing she has. I ran our contribution to dinner into the house and got some plastic bags and paper towels in return. We cleaned Zoe up as best as we could by removing every article of clothing (in the rain, poor kid) and wiping her face off, then proceeded to enjoy our dinner as best as we could. Fortunately for us, our friends were staying with family that happened to live about 1 block from our good friends the Namanny's. After dinner we carted our pukey kid -and car- there and did a surface clean on the carseat and borrowed a towel so Zoe didn't have to sit in her own filth. At home she went straight into the bath and then I literally hosed down her clothing and carseat before throwing everything in the washing machine. I am so thankful we bought a hose last week! At one point in our evening, I actually thought of googling "the best way to clean vomit off a carseat". It made me feel like a mom.

The next day brought no relief. Zoe only puked the one time (I think she was car sick) but I still had the aftermath to deal with. Scrubbing the carseat and straps, spraying anything that still remotely smelled putrid, etc. Before I knew it, it was time to fix dinner again. No biggie, right?

Within about 20 minutes I had to juggle 2 phone calls (a record since we moved), making lasagna, a toddler begging for toast, convincing said toddler to have yogurt while the toast was cooking, said toddler flinging said yogurt onto walls and windows, and melting a plastic cutting board onto a burner. Then I looked at the clock and realized James wouldn't be home for nearly an hour. Then I gritted my teeth and pressed on.

As soon as Zoe was finished eating/making a yogurt mural on her tray, I kicked her outside. After I was finished salvaging dinner, ridding our house of smoke, and discarding the ruins of our cutting board, I joined her outside. There I found that she had transferred a good amount of soil from one of our flower boxes to her doll stroller and also buried her Minnie Mouse PLUSH doll in the flower box itself. And she had a poopy diaper. Then I heard James drive up and I shoved the whole happy mess onto him. It kinda brings a whole new meaning to the song "I'm So Glad When Daddy Comes Home."

There is only one more incident to round out these two days. Zoe was finally in bed, the kitchen was clean and James and I were sitting down to watch Survivor. With ice cream no less. As I finished my ice cream and went to set the bowl down, I noticed that I had a few ice cream drippings on the back of my hand. Being who I am, I licked it off, only to instantly realize that it wasn't ice cream but dish soap. The super-concentrated, foamy kind that in very dim light looks like ice cream dippings but, unfortunately for my taste buds, still tastes like dish soap. I gagged, ran to the bathroom and did my best to dispel the awful taste from my mouth. I have no words to describe the crappiness that has been my life for the past two days. Yet at the same time, my bad luck/timing has been so concentrated that it is actually laughable. So here I am, yukking it up, hoping you all will join with me.