Here's some humor for you!
Bethany was quite sick last night so I took her to the urgent care clinic while the girls went to Awana. She felt miserable and wanted to just be in my lap all evening, so I held her until bedtime. The housework just had to wait, that's not as important as my sick girl.
I stayed up too late, wired from caffiene and Bethany's demands. When I got up this morning, the only thing I wanted was a nap. When I was about to slip back to bed so I could nap before the girls got up, in runs Bethany with a huge grin-she was elated to be feeling better. I told her I was really tired and wondered if she wanted to go back to bed. She said, "No Mommy, I don't...you don't need to go to sleep, you just need some coffee!". She's 4! What in the world does she know about coffee fixes?!
So, I go to Wal-Mart to get her Rx filled. The wait was over half an hour, then I had to get gas on the way home. All the time I was shopping, I was stressing over not being home, not cleaning up from last night's neglected chores, from not doing school, and so on. It didn't help that I was tired. My cell rings while I'm getting gas and Ash calls. Here's the dialog:
Me: Hey, what do you need?
Ash (in hysterics, laughing): Mom! Jaybird took her diaper off and there's poop everywhere! She's trying to play in it!
At this point the only thing keeping me from a full blow weeping session is that I'm pumping gas. In public.
Me: Ohhhh, you've got to be kidding. Okay. Where's Daddy (why do they always call us when Daddy is available???)?
Ash: We have bath water running...it'll be okay, Mom!
Thankfully, Shane comes to the rescue just in time to see Hope getting into the bath with Jay to help wash her. After she got in, he said she looked down at her feet and started screaming, "I'm standing in poop! I'm standing in poop!"
I'm so glad that when I got home (ahhem, I DID NOT take the long way home. We need to establish that right now. I'm a good mom and never leave my husband to clean up messes meant for me. Never.), yeah, when I got home, Jay was wrapped squeaky clean in a bath towel and all was good--and clean.
Tonight, I hear Bethany say, "Mommy, I think my stomach hurts. I have a butterfly problem." I say, "Oh, really. I'm sorry." She says, "No, Mom, that's good. But it does make you feel polka-dotty. Polka-dotty is bad...I need a Tums."
I know what you mean, kid. Sometimes I feel polka-dotty too.