The ongoing blog of my life, with my wonderful husband and two boys born 20 months apart.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
What can YOU do in twenty minutes?
I can play "knock, knock" with Quint for a minute and then slide the fish sticks in the oven for 16 minutes. Then look at Hank in the swing closely only to realize that he's had an explosive dirty diaper. He's sitting in a puddle which also shot out of his diaper and up onto the top edge of the swing seat. Start mopping that up and quickly determine that Hank needs a bath. Mostly clean up the baby AND the changing table. Take the baby upstairs and start to run a bath. Convince the toddler that he does not need a bath right this minute and please, please, please get out of the way and (gulp!) why don't you stay up here with Mama and NOT go play in the still dirty swing. Can you close the gate? Uh-Huh! crisis #2 averted. Bathe the baby, dry the baby, dress the baby, set the baby in his crib. Wash hands. Dash downstairs to jerk the fish sticks out of the oven with 21 seconds to spare! Dash back upstairs to fetch Quint, shove him in his highchair (where he can't play in the still dirty swing). Answer the phone! (Com'on, you knew the phone was gonna ring in here somewhere!) Give my sister the short version of the last 16 minutes while cutting up fish sticks and applying ketchup. Hands feel sticky with no telling what - wash hands again. Talk and laugh with Sis while I figure out that the dirty straps on the swing are attached to the swing, and not to the washable cover. Drat! (to say the least) Extract the washable cover from the hard plastic swing and take all icky cloth to the washing machine. Wash the straps as best as possible. Listen to a gruesome tale from the ER via my nurse sister. Agree with her that your big toe is really the only toe you really NEED. Learn that you should put cut off body parts in a baggie with a wet rag and THEN in ice for transport to the ER. It's only teeth that should be put in a glass of milk. Bring clean, swaddled baby downstairs in the bouncy seat. Extract toddler from his high chair since he (for once) ate all of his food before saying "all done!". Notice that my hands are damp with something. Panic, wash hands again, and look at everything I've touched in the last 90 seconds. Take the speaker phone away from the toddler and hang up with my sister. Put my own fish sticks on a plate with ketchup, move baby and bouncy to living room and sit down to eat my lunch.