Stunday

Apparently, I am stunned today.

Hence, Stunday.

I'd like to take this time to sheepishly retract any statements made about "not minding" the time change, or that Mondays "aren't so bad" and will gingerly place my right foot in my mouth. I knew I should have gone for that pedicure. 

Blergh.

The whole shitstorm of this morning really began yesterday around 4:25 pm when I glanced into the backseat and saw F leaning back in his carseat, half-eaten bag of Lays ketchup chips in his hand, mouth wide open, fast asleep. It was just too cute to disturb, so I decided I'd let him have an hour. Which turned into two. And a half.

Then it came bedtime, at 8:30. Four hours after he'd drifted off to sleep in the car, there wasn't an ounce of sleepiness in my child. He bounced and rolled and tossed and turned and giggled and talked and pretended to snore and yelled at the cat and OH MY GOSH MAMA WHERE IS MY LEGO until I finally put a pillow over my head and rolled over. At 10:45 pm.

And then my alarm went off at 5:30 am and I muttered a few four-letter-words before hitting snooze and declaring it a "bad hair Monday". But then, without warning, it was 6 am and I really needed to get moving. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed, F sat up and asked if the game I'd told him I'd download but didn't really (thanks Mom!) was ready to play with. So then, I had to buy the app because HE NEEDED IT OH MY GOODNESS MAMA. And I would like to teach him that keeping our promises is a thing, too. 

So I made coffee, and without looking at it before I started making out with the cup (staring is rude, you guys), I missed the fact that the cream had curdled and you can pretty well guess how that ended. Related: I need to scrub my kitchen cupboards when I get home today.

And then, at 7:20 - undercaffeinated but wearing clothes - I was so sure that I had everything we could possibly need for my first day of my last week of work, and F even had his pants pulled up and boots on the right feet. Out the door ten minutes late, and yet at preschool on time because Mama went rogue and made a U-turn on Herring Cove Road because it's Monday and I'm crazy like that... and I realized we had no snow pants.

If anyone needs me, I'm setting up an IV Keurig drip. And then going home to find those cursed snow pants so my kid doesn't have to sit inside by himself. 

Toddler Love

There is nothing as fierce as a toddler's love.

Whether it's his cars, the cat or apple juice if F loves something, he loves it big.  There's something so magical about his innocence right now. He can just love everything and anybody and he doesn't have a care in the world. His preschool teachers? He loves them. His friends at preschool? You better believe he loves them. Pancakes? OH MY GOD THE LOVE. It's refreshing and it's entertaining and I have to admit that I am totally jealous because I wish I could be as excited for anything as that boy is about eating one of those shitty toaster pancakes in the morning. 

I couldn't help myself but to laugh last week when I caught F "cuddling" with the cat, and since my phone was handy I managed to snap this photo. With that super cute voice and big eyes, F declared his love for Duncan - his very own cat - and then kissed the furball a few times before I had to intervene. As much as Duncan loves F, Duncan did not love F's I-love-you-deathgrip-headlock. 

Because one look at that cat's face will tell you all you need to know: Sometimes love scares the shit out of you. 

The 10 Commandments of Cats and Kids

Since becoming a parent to Mr. F and the cat, I've learned that I've been going about life all wrong. Here are a few things my cat and toddler have taught me...

1. It is never safe to go to the bathroom, for any reason, without supervision. For this reason, whether my trip to the bathroom is to brush my teeth, pee or have a bath, I have at least one set of eyes on me. This is especially true if you're a through-the-night-bathroom-trip-taker. You should carry your toddler and allow the cat to sit on your lap while you try to unravel some TP in a sleep-induced fog. Don't drop the kid on the way back to bed. They don't like that.  

2. One must never sleep alone. In fact, you should always have another living creature on top of you. The leg of a toddler or a cat bum in your face is a good thing. Make sure you don't try to casually move child and cat from your bed to toddler bed. They don't like that.

3. Behind the couch, under the bed and inside the radiator is the only place to keep valuable or important items including, but not limited to, credit cards, jewelry and favourite toys. You should remove these items every 3 minutes, as that is the frequency of their disappearance. Don't even think about trying to take a trip to the bathroom, either. Your only job is to remove these things from their "lost" places.

4. You should always stand directly in front of the door someone is about to open so that they hit you and know that you are there, waiting for them. This is especially true if someone was really living on the edge and went to the bathroom alone. Shame on them.

5. The fridge and cupboard doors should always be left open. Always. If you trip over them, that's your own damn fault.

6. Dust bunnies have feelings too. What were you thinking vacuuming them up and disposing of them? Gosh. And, HOW DARE YOU throw out any broken toys, crayons or old food. Seriously. Have you no heart?

7. 3am is the prime time to ask questions, chase your tail and demand pizza.

8. Water is more fun when it is spilled across counter tops, floors and furniture. Extra points are awarded to whomever successfully breaks the glass in the process to spill said water.

9. Trips to the potty should be announced as loudly as possible, at all times. Keep record of these trips - strangers need to know about your um, comings and goings.

10. Popsicles, nachos, ice cream and chocolate are all suitable for breakfast. If you do not get one or all of these things for breakfast, throw a temper tantrum and be snotty for the rest of the day. Make sure you get the cat on board with this - if your meltdown doesn't drive your big person crazy, the cat will make sure it trips her.

Disposed

Pro tip: Never wash a disposable diaper or pull-up.

Groan.

Bless Red's heart, he often does the laundry for all of us and this weekend is no exception. Since he just got back from another week at training camp, he had a bag-full and though I had done a mid-week load, I had a handful of F's things and a few of my own to throw in the load also. Like the awesome guy he is, Red made the trek downstairs and through the hall to the laundry room in the basement and threw the clothes that I'd given him into the laundry basket.

It wasn't until he came back from switching everything from washer to dryer that I realized what a dumbass I am.

"Do you think there was something in F's pockets?" he asked me, holding out his hand full of white weirdness. "There's this weird gel stuff all over our clothes."

DING. I knew. I knew right away. IDIOT.

I googled what to do while Red went to clean out the wash. Not knowing what the culprit was, he threw the entire wash load into the dryer - hidden diaper and all. Down the stairs I ran to stop the dryer and remove the diaper which, might I add, took forever to find.

We shook out the clothes, took out GOBS of goo, and wiped down both the washer and the dryer. Might I add that we have a shared laundry room? Efffffffffffffff.

Just in case you ever have a slip of the mind and forget to make sure that there's no pull-ups or diapers hidden amongst the clothes, here are a few tips for dealing with the disaster.

1. Use swear words. Seriously. The same way muttering a profanity helps reduce the amount of pain you feel when you stub your toe (I'm not kidding. Read about it here and swear away), it also helps you curb stress and generally makes you feel better. So, drop an F-bomb or thirty and get your rear in gear. You've got work to do, sister.

2. Shake it off. You may choose to have a dance party to further reduce stress. Do it up, just make sure you grab some of those gel pellet-covered clothes and shake the bejeezus out of them. Shake, shake, shake. Shake out the frustration of your own stupidity! You go girl! The more you get off the clothes, the happier you'll be. Sweep that shit up and discard it all. Marvel at how one little pull-up/disposable diaper can hold so much hateful gel-pellet goo.

3. The dryer is your friend. My Google-search told me to throw my clothes in the dryer and let it work its magic. Apparently the gel just dries up and falls off. Don't be surprised if you require a good lint brush after the clothes come out though. The good news: Your clothes are not ruined.

4. Clean out your washing machine. The washing machines in our laundry room are front loading, so it was easier on the back than reaching over but harder to actually clean because it was stuck all over. Use your hands to scoop as much out as possible, then an old cloth to get the remnants. Wipe down well to remove all trace of the gel pellets.

5. Caffeinate. It's necessary. Just accept it.

Hopefully you'll catch the goo/gel-pellets before throwing it in the dryer. I had to wash the dryer out too. Sigh.

Happy Saturday!

Pizza Delivery

Dear pizza delivery guy who rang my doorbell at 9:55pm on a Wednesday,

Firstly, I hope you liked my blue snowflake underwear. I was so disoriented by my wake-up that I couldn't even find clothes. For the record, I thought it was the middle of the night and that there was some kind of emergency. Everyone knows you don't need pants in an emergency (or something like that).

Second, thank-you for ringing not once, not twice but four times while I ran around trying to find pants and waking my three-year-old. Usually when people don't answer right away, it's for a reason. It took me two hours to get him settled down.

 

Lastly, when you arrive at my door saying "Pizza Delivery" and I tell you have the wrong door, don't look at me like I'm an idiot and ask me if I'm sure. 

I am not wearing pants and I couldn't find my glasses in the sleep-fogged confusion between my bed and my door. I have bed head and my mascara that I should have washed off an hour ago is smeared across my face. I'm squinting to see you. There is also a pantless toddler in a yellow shirt asking if there's a fire. Do we look like we ordered pizza? No. 

Also, don't ask me if I know who ordered pizza. There are 40 units in this building. Tell your order-person to figure their shit out. 

Sincerely,

An over-tired, cranky Mommy with under-eye circles and a surplus of coffee.

PS I hope you found that apartment and got a tip before the pizza got cold. Asshat.