Chaotic Life with Kids

I’m sorry I was late today.

I had every intention of being on time, but the best laid plans often go to shit when there’s a baby and toddler involved.

I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m still pumping for my eleven-month-old. I say ‘pumping’ because he never latched very well. It was really important to me to give him breast milk, though, so I pump several times a day to ensure that this happens. I’m drying up, so we have been relying on my freezer stash to fill in the gaps. When I thawed a few ounces and tried to feed it to him this morning, he kept pushing it away. Frustrated, I smelled it and realized why – it was rancid. Insert Plan B of thawing another bag.

I tried to save time and get dressed before I got the baby up, but my toddler had pancakes for breakfast. As you know, these are frequently accompanied by syrup. In his words, he “just needed to give me a hug.” I’m sure you can surmise that the result of said hug was an outfit change, in between warming up Bag #2 of Hopefully-Not-Rancid milk.

OhMyGodWhyDoesFrozenMilkTakeSoLongToThaw.

The baby is in between diaper sizes, and I have been debating whether or not to make the trip to Target for the next size up. He chose this morning to remind me that it was, in fact, time to do so. Right after I had just changed him.

When we finally got ourselves out the door, my toddler just needed to ring his tricycle bell. He then decided that along with ringing the bell, a ride around the garage might be nice. He proceeded to trip and lightly scrape his ankle, which of course was the equivalent of being stabbed. I had to quickly buckle the baby in the car, then grab him a Bandaid – but not just any one would do. It had to be Marshall from Paw Patrol, and it took a couple minutes of digging through the box to find just the right one.

When we finally got back to the car, I looked at the clock and realized what time it was.

Cue my curse words.

I’m sorry.

I know how important it is to be on time. From the outside, it seems like so many moms have it together in this department much more so than I do. If I’m being honest, though, I don’t foresee my circumstances changing anytime soon. I miss being punctual, but a smooth morning routine is a luxury that I don’t have these days. My life is comprised of little hands and little voices – crawling, climbing, grasping fiercely. I long for the days of taking time to carefully flat iron my hair and apply mascara without rushing to find missing shoes or making sure that I’ve packed enough diapers. Right now, though, my time is not my own – and I’m ok with that.

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