Frustration

There are some days, like today, when I hate my life.  I get woken up much too early - I didn't sleep well last night.  I don't want to be cooped up at home today, but it's stormy outside and much too cold for an outing.  I watch my husband walk out of the house with a "love you, hon."  Oh, how I want to follow him and trade days with him!  Sadly, there's no way I could do his job, so I simply attempt to get Wil and me some breakfast, which is promptly thrown all over the floor, even though my new suction cup bowls were supposed to fix that!  

I think "well, at least I can pour myself a bowl of sugary cereal and calm myself down for a minute.  But, of course, there is only a few straggling pieces of cereal left.  I sigh and pour the raisin bran instead.  Just as I add the milk, Wil starts screaming because he has no food to eat (it's all on the floor).  I'm starting to get a bit angry now.  I go find something that I can distract him with so I can eat in peace.  Fruit snacks!  They'll do the trick!  I dump a few on his tray.  And go back to my now soggy cereal.  

Taking the first bite, I gag at the texture and have to put it down the sink.  In desperation, I eat some of the fruit snacks, which causes Wil to scream again because I'm eating his food.  "Fine then, I'll just let you eat them all!"  I scream in my head.  Okay, Michelllie, calm down.  Just let him finish his breakfast and then you can put him down for his nap.  I wait patiently for Wil to signal he's done (he screams) and take him down from his high chair.  

Somehow the child is soaking wet and I can smell the stinkiness that tells me he has a dirty diaper.  No problem.  I'll just get him dressed and change his diaper, then put him to sleep and get to eat.  I undress my child, peeling the sopping clothes from his body.  I unfasten the diaper, reach for a wipe, and -?  Where's all my wipes?  The box is empty!  I quickly look around and see a white pile over in the corner where Wil had pulled out all the wipes sometime between bedtime last night and this morning.  I look around frantically, trying to think of anything I can use to wipe his bum, while holding his flailing legs in a vice-like grip and absently handing him a clothes hanger to play with.  Aha!  There it is!  The extra wipes!  I just have to let go for one second, turn around, bend down, and grab them!  I can do this!  I count to myself "1, 2, 3...Go!"  

I execute my moves perfectly, turning back around just in time to see my baby pull the diaper up over his stomach and head, launching it onto the floor.  Then noticing he has poop all over him, begins rubbing it around in an attempt to get it off him.  For a moment all I can do is stare in absolute horror.  "Wiliam!" I shrill in a high-pitched yell.  "Stop!"  Which, of course, causes him to burst into tears and begin trying to roll over and stand up.  I pick him up by the least dirty parts and rush into the bathroom, where I turn on the water and proceed to wash my baby.  He calmly begins to drink the water.  I gag, almost throw up, and hurry to finish washing him off.  I somewhat roughly yank him from the draining water in the tub and wrap him in a towel.  I've made him angry now! 

Finally, several minutes later, I almost-gently lay Wil in his crib, dressed and newly diapered, tell him I love him, and hurry out of the room in tears.  I am sitting here crying, stomach growling, trying not to imagine what the rest of the day will be like.  I think I'm going to go take a shower and a nap.  Maybe, I sigh, the day won't turn out so bad.  After all, what else can go wrong?  :)