3 Mums, 1 Nap, a Smidge of Sanity & Their Non-Existance on a Saturday

The following statements are Absolutely TRUE:

• My Husband, Charlie, faints almost instantly when he sees blood.
• I am a complete BEAR when I don’t get Sleep.
• Timothy isn’t a fan of Mommy Napping.
• My husband likes to pretend to be Bob Villa, but is more of a Tim the Toolman Taylor.
• Saturday, all I wanted was a Nap and a couple Mums for my porches.

Ok. Seriously.  Waking up on Saturday, I knew we’d have our work cutout for us.  Our Labrador, Addison, unbeknownst to us, evidently had picked up something in her paw at the lake two weeks before.  Well, it reared it’s ugly head in an absess/open wound late Friday night.  So Saturday morning, we were headed to the vet asap.  I, being the overacheiver that I am, had the brilliant idea of making it a family trek around town to hit up our grocery lists and more.  This was brilliant and oh so not brilliant in many ways.

To start, after a quick stop at Banfield for a check and $100 in Flea/Tick Treatment, Antiseptic Rinse and Antibiotics, we headed to the Home depot.  Passing the gas station, my husband gasps at the price of fuel and says, “Change of Plans”.

So we head home to swap out his truck for my Altima and drop the dog off.  At this point Timothy has been sleeping soundly and wakes up as we arrive home and is ready to eat.  perfect timing :)  We feed Mr. Man and then load up into the Altima and head to the Home Depot.  Charlie says he’s just going in for some wire to finish his “adding lights to the garage” project.  Ok. I stay in the running car with the air on and Timothy asleep in the back.  I wake up, god knows how long later, to a crying baby and drool on my headrest.  How long does it take to get wire?!  Evidently 30 mins or more. Thank heavens we’re not delivering pizza.

Charlie arrives back at the car grumbling about how much more it cost him for this project than expected as we drive out.  Then I see them!  The MUMS! They are out at the Home Depot Garden Center!  After all the summer heat, 1/3 of my potted plants died off and I want to replace them with Mums.  However, getting my husband to stop so I can get them is harder than breaking into the Pentagon.  Charlie doesn’t see the value in buying plants at this time.

So onward we go to Sam’s Club where I get a lot of my produce in bulk.  I’m getting ready to return to Rejuv Medical’s Weight Loss & Perfomance Center to continue my weight loss journey, now that I’m post baby, and clean eating means a lot of produce.  After multiple trips down aisles we never buy anything from and 30 mins of comparing prices of formula and diapers to other store prices, we are finally checking out. Then I realise I forgot something. I send Charlie out to the car with Timothy and the purchases, and I go back to get my one item.  Well this is Sam’s Club.  So of course, I’m standing there waiting to check out my ONE item behind three carts of what seems likes thousands of items. Then someone has problems with their method of payment and it all adds up to an additional 20 mins in the store. I finally get in the car, apologise to Charlie for the wait and tell him, we need to get a move on, Timothy will be hungry again soon and I really need a nap.  This is close to 1pm already and I’m getting pretty worn out.

We get a move on to our last stop, Coborn’s for the Penny Pincher Coupon Specials and to get the rest of the groceries we need.  Driving up I see Coborn’s has MUMS and they are on sale!! Woot!  NOT.  Insert Charlie’s “We don’t need to spend money on flowers” speech.  The place is packed, as usual on a Saturday, so another hour there and we’re finally on our way home.

Once home, I feed Timothy and tell Charlie I’ll put the groceries away then join Timothy for a nap.  This all sounds all oozing with “AHHs” and “isnt’ that greats”…well it’s not.

Timothy eats, but won’t go back down to sleep. In fact, Timothy won’t go down anywhere.  He wants to be held at all moments in time.  It’s hot as heck in the house because Charlie’s insisting on opening all the windows and turning off the Central Air since the breeze is really nice (mind you he’s working in the garage).  I’m shoosing, rocking, swaddling a crying baby boy in an 80 degree house, looking at all my groceries strewn about my kitchen.  I see the dead potted plants on my deck and hear hammering and sawing coming from the Mancave, aka Garage.  This goes on for about an hour and a half.  Then my phone rings and “mom” is on the caller ID.  This is where I start to lose it.

There is something about when your mother calls, that any emotion you’ve been holding back will come blasting out like someone put a hole in the Hoover Dam.  I no sooner get a Hello out, then start crying and spouting off about Naps, Mums and the lack thereof and how i’m gonna lose it if one more thing goes wrong.  My mother offers to drive to St. Cloud from Grand Forks to help out, but I tell her no. I have to figure this one out and it won’t be the first or last day like this as a parent.  Then it happens.

“Babe? Can I get your help!?” Charlie yells from the entryway.

I answer in a highly annoyed tone, “WHAT, do you need?”

“It’s a Semi-Emergency” he responds.

“Mom, I gotta Go” and I hang up the phone.

This is where I unload on poor Charlie. I don’t remember it all, but I can only imagine it was similar to the “where’s the tylenol” scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.  Bits and pieces about “I just need sleep / Can’t handle This / Your son won’t sleep / I’m exhausted / My plants are dead / the house is wreck / the Groceries are still out” come flying from my mouth”.  See most emergencies for Charlie are “Its starting to rain on the car I’m washing or can you hold this nail”

Then I hear NOTHING.  What?! He just walked back out the door.  Now I’m crying and talking to myself about talking to myself. Then I hear IT.  The meek sound of my husband “Babe?…Babe.  babe”  it’s getting weaker and quieter.  This can only mean 1 thing. He’s injured himself.

Timothy now awake again and crying in my arms, I hurry downstairs. There is my husband looking pale as if he’s going to pass out with the water running bent over the sink. Slightly Panicked, I profusely apologise and ask him “what’s wrong!?!”

Low and Behold, he’s cut his finger. Not a gaping massive ‘I need stitches’ wound. But an ‘I need a bandaid’ cut and it’s taking him out.  I grab for a washcloth and a bandaid has he heads to the floor to lay down and put his feet up.  Now I’ve got a crying baby, a fainting, barely bleeding husband, a Mother who thinks I’m suffering from PPD, wilting lettuce, no nap and no mums.  If the dog pukes on the floor, I’m committing myself.

After another hour or so, I finally have the AC back on, groceries are put away, there’s a new light that works in the garage thanks to my Bandaid’d Bob Villa of a Husband, Timothy is sleeping soundly and I’m headed to bed for a nap, even if it is already 7pm.  Charlie’s taking the night shift tonight and I’m having a glass of wine.

We’re Here for the Party: Mama’s First Post-Baby Night on the Town

Yup..This sums it all up

Towards the end of our two week Circus-esque trek across the great state of North Dakota, Charlie and I were happy to accept Gramma Ria’s offer to watch Timothy while we “partied” on a Saturday Night.  Ok.  Let me just say that “Party” has a whole new meaning when there is a little one in the household.

“Party BEFORE Timothy”

• Less than 24 hours in advance, texts or calls would be placed to all those potentially involved.
• Depending upon venue, an impromptu shopping trip for makeup, shoes or even an entire new outfit would occur resulting in multiple options and a new nail polish to spice up the digits.
• Charlie or myself would hit up the liquor store for the Pre-Party Libations
• Charlie, Myself and other parties involved would play a rousing game of “Nose Goes” for who would make the sacrifice and be DD for the night.
• Getting ready with a libation in one hand and hair products in the other while blaring some party tunes we ackwardly dance in the mirror while trying NOT to burn ourselves, even tho Beauty IS pain people.
• Then Piling into one said DD’s Car and singing obnoxiously to the radio while gossiping about who we’d inevitably run into that night
• Arrive at said dinner destination where drinks and dinner would be quick, witty and just enough to fuel us through the night
• Check cell phone multiple times for Facebook Notifications on uploaded pic of new heels and text friends we’re meeting asking about their ETA at the bar
• Arriving at said Bar location, conduct a quick lipgloss & high heels check, then find the best place to sit and people watch, order drink of choice and check cell phone again for Facebook notifications and check-in Via Foursquare hoping to get a “Playa Please” Badge out of the deal
• Potential dancing on objects, laughing beyond the barrier of sound loud and playing Russian Roulette of Martinis takes over the night, your cell phone battery is dying from your incessant checking of the facebook and texting of the friends at your table while making snarky comments about the chick on the dancefloor no one knows
• frantic search for wall outlet to charge phone, heaven help us if we can’t check facebook.
• Search through purse filled with the ESSENTIALS:  “Lip gloss, Gum, Wallet with ID, Cell Phone, Keys and Perfume” and share your pepperminty social “life saver”  GUM with the table
• When the Bartender says “Last Call” we say..Now Where?!
• Once in the Car, the DD takes you to Taco Bell, McDonald’s, Jimmy John’s or Subway..whichever is closer and best fits the post bar budget.
• We all eat like animals while losing pieces of our outfits all the way..for me that means, Heels come off, earings make their way to a cup holder and any other accessories are strewn about the car amidst the Taco Bell Mild Sauce wrappers.
• Once we arrive at my house, I grab all my stuff in my arms, drag my feet into the house, strip down leaving a trail of said accessories including purse and if I’m lucky end up in shorts and a tshirt face down passed out in bed until the morning when I realise I still have all my makeup on, but now look like a cat burgler (Thank you Rimmel) and it tastes like a cat may have defecated in my mouth.
• This is where the night officially ends…the “Morning After Brushing of the Teeth” aka “the Reset”

Partying AFTER Timothy:

• 

  My one of only TWO libations for the night!

  Calls and texts are placed at minimum 72 hours to 1 week in advance

• An impromptu shopping trip for Diapers reminds you to look for that new nail polish you’ve wanted to match your outfit for that night. (You will not be painting your nails for the next 30 days)
• Charlie or myself endulge in a SF Rockstar, Sans booze, to get our energy up.
• Charlie, Myself and other parties involved would play a rousing game of “Nose Goes” for who actually gets the luxury of being the DD for the night.
• Getting ready with a burp cloth and bottle in one hand, I forgoe the hair straightening, since Timothy needs to eat now and doesn’t give a shiz about a CHI or how amazing it makes my hair look. Beauty IS pain (in the arse now) people.
• Then Piling into one said DD’s Car and singing obnoxiously to the radio while swapping parenting stories about the color of poop, the “cutest” thing ever that happened today and talking up how awesome we are at Gettin Crazy on a Saturday and it’s going to be EPIC tonight.
• Arrive at said dinner destination where drinks and dinner take and hour longer than expected due to conversation and we contemplate calling it a night already since it’s so late.
• Check Cell phone for time.  it’s 9pm.
• Arriving at said Bar location, conduct a quick “check in” phone call for the 3rd time to see if Gramma Ria has any issues (Like she’s going to say yes or something sheesh), then find the best place to sit and people watch, order drink of choice and check cell phone again for potential missed calls from Gramma Ria and to see if anyone has commented on the pic of Timothy posted 1 hour earlier.
• After Beer number one with number two on order feeling pretty good,  laughing beyond the barrier of sound and reminiscing about high school begins, your cell phone battery is dying from your incessant checking of the facebook, watching for missed calls and checking of the time.
• Plug Phone into portable battery charger in purse so that When that phone rings, We’re ready to go. (Phone doesn’t ring..not once)
• Search through purse filled with the ESSENTIALS:  “Lip gloss, Gum, Wallet with ID, Cell Phone, Keys, diaper, toys, pacifier, snacks, baggie of formula that looks like drugs, coupons, wipes” and check your cell phone that’s charging in it.
• When the Bartender asks if we want another round, we say, well it’s gettin’ pretty late.  He frowns and says “It’s 10:30pm”
• Secretly we all want to be in bed already, but don’t admit it until at least 11pm
• Once in the Car, the DD takes you straight home while we laugh off our inability to stay awake citing issues of “today was a long day” when really, this is the latest we’ve been out in months.
• Once we arrive at my house, I check on Timothy, to whom Gramma Ria says, don’t worry I’ll take the night shift.
• Charlie and I changed into pajamas, wash our faces, brush our teeth, curl up in bed and don’t wake til 8am, when we bolt from the bed like rockets forgetting that Gramma Ria’s got Timothy
• This is where the night officially ends…the “shuffle into the kitchen for coffee to curb the potential hangover from my two beers” walk of shame.

The Traveling Circus Starring Timothy

Charlie and I pretty much have 99% of all of our immediate family in North Dakota, so being as I am taking a minimum of 8 weeks of Maternity leave, we decided to take two of the early weeks and travel to North Dakota to see family.

The first week we were in Oil Country, also known as Williston, ND.  This is where Charlie is from.  The second week, which Timothy and I would be spending without Charlie, is in Grand Forks, my hometown.

Well, let me tell you.  Big Top PeeWee has NOTHING on this circus act of a family.  My husband drives a crew cab pickup truck and we had that thing MORE than loaded:  10 bags/suitcases of clothes, cameras, diapers, dog food and more, a Bouncy Chair, a SnowBlower to be taken to Charlie’s Dad, A dog bed, a breast pump, my purse, two bags of “projects” and enough technology and their cords to run NASA  remotely.

We honestly looked like we were picking up and moving to a new state.  Plus, with my acrobatics of climbing from the front seat to the back with less room than an adult would require to sit, let alone move around in, all while rolling down the interstate multiple times, it’s been a rather eventful trip.  So far, on the way to Williston, we had to stop and redo the load in the back to cover up as much as possible since we were coming into a huge storm.  On the way from Williston to Grand Forks, the drawers on our new dresser we bought for Timothy’s room kept opening up, Timothy had a major pants blowout, two feeding sessions and yet again another storm, creating more than 7 stops in the less than 5 hour trip.  Ugh.

I’m officially the mom that sits in the back seat with Timothy to my left in his seat, and Addison Grace asleep on her dog bed on the floor to my right.  Charlie is the driver of this circus train.  I may be cramped, can’t feel one of my legs, no elbow room and wishing I could reach my gatorade that I placed way to far away, but when I turn to my left and see that beautiful baby boy, my wonderful husband driving and my pup to my right it dawns on me that “I’m here”.

I’m officially where I’ve always wanted to be; not cramped in a truck, but smack in the middle of FAMILY.  Everything that means anything to me is right here in this cab.  It brings a tear to my eyes that inevitably turns into full on cries of love only to be turned to tear of laughter as Charlie makes up his “Timothy” version of LMFAO’s “Sexy and I Know It” consisting of  lyrics such as “I’m timmy and I know it” and “Poopy Poopy Poopy Poopy PAAANTS!”  Don’t Ask. We’re on mile number 687 of this trip.