cupcakes and zombies

because cupcakes are yummy and people aren't. unless you're a zombie.

Archive of ‘Stress’ category

Stressed Out

Ok…..so…I haven’t written in a while. I realize this. Sometimes life gets in the way of things. So do the 13,919 pending comments that I need to “approve, spam or send into oblivion”. So, let’s chalk it up to being overwhelmed.

This has turned out to be a particularly stressful and not so pleasant week. So I thought that a good idea to make myself feel better after moping around the house for a couple days, was to take my newest little guy out for an iced coffee and to run some errands. Ok, the coffee is for me, not him. But you know, get out of the house and pretend I am a contributing member of society and not someone really bad at being a stay at home mom. JOKING. I’m totally an OK stay at home mom. But seriously, if anyone knows the key to getting stuff done around the house and entertaining a 12 week old, I’m all ears.

I made it out of the house and onto the highway before I remembered that it was Friday. In the summer. A nice Friday. I live on the shoreline. On Shore Road. Sooooooo…traffic. Yeah. Good stuff. No worries, I was out, little guy was sleeping and my iced coffee was imminent. I managed to procure it with no problem and was enjoying its watery goodness when I forgot and hopped back on the highway. Ooops.

Made it to my destination, finally…wait for it…Babies R’Us. WOO HOO. Living large, over here. Don’t get too jealous. I really needed to pick up another pacifier clip and I had a $5 certificate. You know, those little ribbons that secure the ever elusive pacifier to your kid or carseat or stroller so it doesn’t get lost?  Well, somehow in my son’s short 12 weeks of life so far I’ve managed to lose 2 of them.  The clips, not the pacifiers. There’s some irony for you.

So, I roll through the store, knowing I only had a solid 2, maybe 3 if I’m feeling lucky, hours before the little guy needs to eat. I grabbed the clip, 5 other items I didn’t need, diapers and wipes and I’m in line to pay. That’s when it happens. Poop. Everywhere. I don’t know if its the kid, or the carseat, but it most often shoots up his leg and out. He was wearing shorts. Sigh. I pretend its no big deal as I pay. I’m sure they see it all the time. I mean, they are in the business of baby stuff right? Poop like this is definitely baby stuff.

No problem, I roll him to the convenient Mother’s Room and try to determine the least toxic way of picking him out of his carseat without suffering a traumatic amount of collateral damage. I somehow managed to secure his shoulders and a leg and hoist him up. Dripping. I kid you not. 14 wipes, 2 diapers and 10 minutes later I’m staring at my wailing, half undressed child trying to figure out how to get his little jumper over his head when it is covered in baby slime, AND not get it all over his face. This NEVER happens when he’s wearing something that doesn’t require an over the head removal. Somehow, I succeed, but he’s still screaming and now I’m sweating.

So, kid is clean(ish), I am clean(ish) and I now have to figure out what to do with the icky clothes and how to get him home in his poop covered carseat. So I scrub it as best I can and throw down a diaper for him to sit on. Pretty smart, right? For his clothes, I rip open the plastic bag of swim diapers I just bought and toss them in there. I am congratulating myself as the MacGyver of baby poop accidents as I’m rolling him out the door. Finally.

Then the screaming begins. Yes, because it has been 2 hours and 34 minutes since he’s eaten. All. The. Way. Home. He calms down a bit after we get home, but really gets going a few minutes later. And then he won’t stop screaming even though I am trying to feed him. Like, its in his mouth and he’s screaming. Um. Ok. What do I do now??? The answer to that is let him scream apparently since nothing else worked. Finally he realizes that he’s eating and stops screaming.

So, he’s calm, I’m calmer, and all is looking up. Until my husband comes home with our crying 3.5 year old.

Moral of the story here is, yes, I am stressed out, yes, this week wasn’t so fabulous, but it could always be worse. I should be really happy it wasn’t. And I should bring more wipes when I go out. Just in case.