Day 3: 0n Dirty Jeans

Both kids are loaded up in the car, so I quickly run inside for my purse, and the enormous bag of diapers that absolutely MUST go in the trash today. As I walk down the driveway, I realize that there is baby poo dripped all the way down my jeans. But let me back up for a second.

...

Keilana was up most of the night with a stuffy nose that is keeping her (and me! and Lover!) from sleeping... well at all. We get through the night as best we can and Lover kisses me as he heads off to work, both of us bleary eyed. Javi scampers after Lover, chirping bye! daddy! and then runs back in the room, insisting that I come down so we can wave goodbye to Lover. I comply, and Lover is off.

The next hour is a whirlwind of nursing, changing and dressing for all three of us. I'm conflicted about how warmly we should dress, tricky fall temperatures have made me get it wrong for the last several days. Once the kids are dressed, I stand in front of my closet trying to figure out what to wear. I settle on a comfy shirt that works for nursing, and my one pair of clean(ish) jeans that fits. Keilana wants to nurse again, so I pull on the clothes and sit down to nurse. Two seconds later, she's blown thru the clothes I just dressed her in, and I'm rushing to the changing table. I get her changed head to toe and ball up clothes and the changing cover to throw in the wash. On my way back to our bedroom I notice a few drips of poo on the floor, so I clean those up too.

the scene of the crime

We go downstairs, and the non milk eaters get breakfast. I make sure I have extra diapers and clothes for KK in my bag, and I load up the kids.

...

So now I am standing in the driveway, jeans covered in poo, evaluating my options. Option A) Pretend I didn't see the poo - no, Jenny, seriously, you are better than that. Option B) unload kids, bring them inside, change clothes as quickly as possible. There's no way I'm loading and unloading them both again, besides, I don't have anything else that's clean and fits. !@#$%#@! So I settle on Option C) Dash inside, scrub as much as I can off with a washcloth, and resign myself to the reality that I'm heading out the door with filthy jeans.

We arrive at the chiropractor without incident, and so far (we're only in the parking lot) we are on time, with five minutes to spare. I unload both the munchkins, and head inside, hefting the carseat with one hand and holding Javi's hand in the other. We encounter a patient leaving, who gives us the once over (oh God, is she noticing my jeans?) and then points out the obvious; "wow, you have your hands full - literally!" I smile uncertainly, and say nothing, grateful she didn't notice the bigger problem.

Our visit goes by as painlessly as possible. I contemplate for a second using the restroom there, but it's tiny and the kids have been so good that I'm not risking it. We head out, load kids up again, and head home.

I have every intention of going straight home, but once we're on the highway, I realize that the further I drive, the longer I get to enjoy the relative silence of the car. So I drive up to the Parkway, then head back down the main road that will eventually get us home.

As I drive, I decide that what I really need today is some kind of coffee frappe. My favorites are from Burger King, but I prefer their Mocha Frappe and Keilana reacts badly to the chocolate. Ah! But I have a coupon for BOGO frappes/smoothies at McDonalds!

I pull into the drivethru, and give them my order. Caramel frappe for me, strawberry banana smoothie for Javi. KayKay turns her nose up at anything besides milk, so she gets nothing. I mention to the crackly voice that I have a coupon.

When I pull up to the window, the total is twice the amount it should be - so I tell them I didn't get my free frappe. The girl argues with me, but then I realize that they rang me up for THREE drinks; two frappes (one free) and one smoothie. She goes to get a manager to correct the problem, and after several back and forths, they get the order right, and I am refunded two dollars and fifty eight cents.

When I get to window # 2, they tell me to pull ahead and they'll bring my drinks "right out." We sit there for eight minutes, and I think to myself that I had time to run in and go the bathroom while we waited. Oh well. Here comes the employee, carrying our *three!* drinks! Yep, I still got two frappes and one smoothie. Whatever. I laugh and drive us to the nearest park with a playground, where Javi can get out some energy.



 

This playground is perfect for a toddler- so while Kay snoozes some more, Javi and I swoosh down slides, bounce on the bridges and spend some time on the swings. While pushing Javi, I contemplate my shoe choice for the day - metallic flats were probably not the best choice for running through mulch. My attempt to empty them out is futile.



We stay for a half hour, and just as we're leaving a man parks his work van and dashes behind a tree. I'm a little grossed out but then I think "well at least he probably wouldn't judge me for having poo covered pants!" We pack up and head home.



Javi sits out on the porch with the smoothie, I snap his picture and start typing this post. But the minute I sit down, I remember that I still haven't made it to the bathroom. Crap, I still can't go, since Javi is outside.



Javi comes over and kisses the laptop screen (why?) and leaves a big old smoothie smooch mark on the screen. I grimace and swipe the screen with my finger, and then - why not? - wipe it on my jeans.

Now please excuse me while I go throw in some laundry. :)