Screw the bird
Remember Monday when I was all "Three kids is easy! No problem!" and I said that things were so perfect I thought I heard a bluebird singing as I left the house?
Yeah, well that stupid-ass bluebird shit on my head yesterday.
Maeve decided sleeping in the morning was for suckers, literally, as she required me to shove the pacifier in her piehole every 30 seconds for what seemed like infinity, but was really probably 20 minutes.
While I was trying to lie in bed and squeeze the last 20 minutes of rest out of my morning, you know, in between sticking a pacifier in someone's mouth, I was battling Jack about staying in his room. Since he puked last week, he refuses to sleep with the door shut and that means we have lost the ability to lock him inside in the morning. So now he comes into our room every morning to present bizarre scenarios to me that would require him to come out of his room. Today he asked me to come look at his finger because he thought there *might* be poop on it. I believe I have never moved so fast.
Then while I was threatening him with the loss of a morning video (a clearly empty threat, considering that video allows me to take a shower) Emmie started shrieking to get out of her crib. That's how she rolls -- a shrill, high-pitched whine that does not abate until someone comes into her room and turns on the light. So to save my eardrums, and those of the neighbors in a three-block radius, I hustled in to get her.
After getting everyone settled with breakfast, a breakfast no one liked anyway because god forbid I should top a waffle with almond butter instead of regular butter, I went to run the water to fill the Pur water thingy we have in the fridge.
No water. What the? Oh shit, it was really cold out and I forgot to run the water in a steady drip all night. And when you live in a 130-year-old house with pipes on an outside wall in Chicago where it drops below 10 degrees, you need to drip the water or bad things happen. Despite paying thousands of dollars for blown-in insulation around those very pipes, THEY STILL FREEZE.
I called Josh and pulled him out of a meeting to inform him I am a dumbshit and forgot to run the water. He told me to get my hair dryer and aim it at the cold-water pipe until it thawed out.
So it's 8:30 a.m. and we need to walk out the door for school in exactly five minutes and you want me to hold a blow dryer under the kitchen sink for who knows how long? Not happening. I snapped that I had a few more important things to take care of as Emmie screamed in the living room because Jack ripped the tag from her new shirt out of her hands. Yes, World War III began over a Gap price tag. Please someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery.
Nobody wanted to put his or her coat on, nobody wanted to get into his or her car seat, nobody wanted to mix Mommy a mimosa. Total bullshit all around.
After dropping Jack at school,I came home and tackled the stupid pipe. I ran upstairs to get the hair dryer while Maeve screamed her head off and Emmie ran around yelling "Mafe! Crying! Up! Mommy! Up! Mafe!" So helpful of her to offer a play-by-play of the screamfest like I wasn't right there.
I tried to plug the dryer in under the sink, but it wouldn't work. Again, and again, and again I tried the plug and hit the reset button and nothing. Swearing, I ran back upstairs to get an extension cord. Then I spent the next 10 minutes with my head under the sink while Emmie tried to stick her head in with mine and Maeve screamed relentlessly for the boob. After all that, the pipe was still frozen and I was frazzled.
After throwing the hair dryer across the room, I sat down to feed Maeve and turned to my favorite babysitter, The Wiggles, to pacify Emily. I shit you not, as I felt the milk let down, I heard the pipe start to drip and then the water run full force. Alle-freaking-luia, it was fixed.
Apparently I don't need a babysitter to get things in order, I need a handyman.
Yeah, well that stupid-ass bluebird shit on my head yesterday.
Maeve decided sleeping in the morning was for suckers, literally, as she required me to shove the pacifier in her piehole every 30 seconds for what seemed like infinity, but was really probably 20 minutes.
While I was trying to lie in bed and squeeze the last 20 minutes of rest out of my morning, you know, in between sticking a pacifier in someone's mouth, I was battling Jack about staying in his room. Since he puked last week, he refuses to sleep with the door shut and that means we have lost the ability to lock him inside in the morning. So now he comes into our room every morning to present bizarre scenarios to me that would require him to come out of his room. Today he asked me to come look at his finger because he thought there *might* be poop on it. I believe I have never moved so fast.
Then while I was threatening him with the loss of a morning video (a clearly empty threat, considering that video allows me to take a shower) Emmie started shrieking to get out of her crib. That's how she rolls -- a shrill, high-pitched whine that does not abate until someone comes into her room and turns on the light. So to save my eardrums, and those of the neighbors in a three-block radius, I hustled in to get her.
After getting everyone settled with breakfast, a breakfast no one liked anyway because god forbid I should top a waffle with almond butter instead of regular butter, I went to run the water to fill the Pur water thingy we have in the fridge.
No water. What the? Oh shit, it was really cold out and I forgot to run the water in a steady drip all night. And when you live in a 130-year-old house with pipes on an outside wall in Chicago where it drops below 10 degrees, you need to drip the water or bad things happen. Despite paying thousands of dollars for blown-in insulation around those very pipes, THEY STILL FREEZE.
I called Josh and pulled him out of a meeting to inform him I am a dumbshit and forgot to run the water. He told me to get my hair dryer and aim it at the cold-water pipe until it thawed out.
So it's 8:30 a.m. and we need to walk out the door for school in exactly five minutes and you want me to hold a blow dryer under the kitchen sink for who knows how long? Not happening. I snapped that I had a few more important things to take care of as Emmie screamed in the living room because Jack ripped the tag from her new shirt out of her hands. Yes, World War III began over a Gap price tag. Please someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery.
Nobody wanted to put his or her coat on, nobody wanted to get into his or her car seat, nobody wanted to mix Mommy a mimosa. Total bullshit all around.
After dropping Jack at school,I came home and tackled the stupid pipe. I ran upstairs to get the hair dryer while Maeve screamed her head off and Emmie ran around yelling "Mafe! Crying! Up! Mommy! Up! Mafe!" So helpful of her to offer a play-by-play of the screamfest like I wasn't right there.
I tried to plug the dryer in under the sink, but it wouldn't work. Again, and again, and again I tried the plug and hit the reset button and nothing. Swearing, I ran back upstairs to get an extension cord. Then I spent the next 10 minutes with my head under the sink while Emmie tried to stick her head in with mine and Maeve screamed relentlessly for the boob. After all that, the pipe was still frozen and I was frazzled.
After throwing the hair dryer across the room, I sat down to feed Maeve and turned to my favorite babysitter, The Wiggles, to pacify Emily. I shit you not, as I felt the milk let down, I heard the pipe start to drip and then the water run full force. Alle-freaking-luia, it was fixed.
Apparently I don't need a babysitter to get things in order, I need a handyman.
Labels: Holy hell three kids
posted by Amy at
10:58 PM
9 Comments:
LOL at the milk letting down and the pipe thawing at the same time. Perfect!
What you need is a "neighborhood husband". I have three. Whenever I need something and my regular husband does not answer his phone, I just call one of them. It's really the perfect situation. No sex, just browines occasionally. And me, telling them how wonderful they are...everyone needs stroked once in a while!
Oh, and here I was feeling like a total LOSER after reading your "bluebird of happiness" post the other day. This post made me feel infinitely better, THANK YOU.
That's the way it goes, right...one day you're on and the next....the pipes freeze and the kids scream.
How many more days until your husband returns? You can do it!
Sounds like a crappy day but I hope that you eventually got that mimosa!!
I was totally guessing that you would have stuck Maeve on the boob while your head was under the sink running the hair dryer. That would be good multi-tasking!
I was thinking what Sarah was thinking- that you'd nurse Maeve while under the sink trying to thaw the pipes! :)
My husband is gone a LOT and it always seems that something breaks or messes up when he's gone. Isn't that the way?
Hope you did get to enjoy some sort of adult beverage and a good nap/movie/snack/all of the above.
Love your blog. You speak my language! (as my 3yo enjoys SpongeBob...)
I want a neighborhood husband. My hubby is as un-handy as they come (just today he "broke" the blinds in the baby's room) and a morning like that would have sent me calling for a contractor!
The idea of the "neighborhood husband" is freaking amazing.
I love Emmie's play-by-play. Isn't so great when they think they're being helpful? And they are so not?
I have a neighborhood husband. I ran over there last summer when a bird wound up in the house and was dive-bombing me every thirty seconds. Totally worth the humiliation.
Hey, I can't even get my act together with a husband and two kid - I as