Okay, so the thing with peaks is that you need valleys in order to truly appreciate them. Let’s just say today is helping me appreciate the times when I have had it all together and everything seems to be going great.
To begin with, my darling little Xavi is sick. Super sick. He has a bad cold, fever, ear infection. After trying to fight it all with multiple homeopathic remedies for a few days now, I finally caved and started the antibiotics today, along with some infant ibuprofen for the fever and pain. I had my first ear infection last winter and now I understand just how excruciating they are. I don’t want my poor little guy suffering.
So, his illness obviously means (to any fellow parents out there , anyway) that I have been getting ZERO sleep. And then I woke up today with my back all out of whack. I had an accident 2 years ago and my back still acts up when I overdo it physically or am under a lot of stress. So, the better part of this morning was spent laying flat on a heating pad, while snapping at Carlitos because the pain and lack of sleep are making me irritable.
Irritable is a nice way of saying I have been a super beotch.
Yes, I am aware that I should not be taking my pain out on him in any way, shape or form. Feeling like a bad mom is awesome.
I finally pull myself together enough to make my pasta dish for his school picnic tonight and feed him lunch. I even manage to get him dressed and ready to go to school. Ooooh, do I feel the sweetness of an incline coming on?
Nope. I glance in the mirror and notice that my hair is practically matted to my head it is so greasy. I am supposed to be out of the house in 10 minutes if I want to get him to school on time. I try putting on a hat. It isn’t cutting it. I jump in the shower.
Is that a? Seriously? Okay, today I also turned 15, apparently, because I have a zit on my nose, too. Ugh, no time for makeup.
Okay, let’s move it, boys!
Oh no. Xavi, don’t cry. Shoot. You’re hungry, aren’t you?
Feed Xavi. Start to get them downstairs.
Carlitos? Do I smell…? Did you…? Okay, lay down so I can change you. Don’t forget that you said you would start using the potty when you turn 3! You’ve only got two more days of this, buddy!
Alright. We make it downstairs. I pack up the diaper bag and realize my house keys are missing. I tear apart the Whole. Entire. House. No keys. But now my house looks terrible just in time for company coming in Friday.
You have got to be kidding me.
I email my landlord/neighbor. She says she can lock the door behind me. I make it down one more flight of stairs and right before she opens the door, Xavi pukes EVERYWHERE. Himself, my shirt, my pants, my shoes, and the floor. She is on an important call as she opens the door, so I don’t want to interrupt to tell her to…Oh no! Watch out.
My landlord’s bare foot. In my sick baby’s spit up.
She looks at me, turns and hops back into her home to clean off her foot.
And then I realize I don’t know how to get both boys, the diaper bag and the double stroller down the front stairs. So, I am just standing there, in pain and about to just go ahead and call it. Time of Surrender: 2:14 pm. Sit right down in the foyer and wait for my husband to find us at 10:00pm when he gets home.
But then my landlord’s nanny, bless her heart, comes to the door and holds Xavi for a second so I can get it all down the stairs.
So, we are super late but I still have a tiny *I can do this!* spark left in me. It won’t be squashed by the sweat pouring down my face.
And then we get to the subway just in time!……….to watch the train doors close in our faces.
Uh oh. Here come the tears. My tears.
No, Annie. You are an adult. A mom. Nobody died. Pull yourself together.
Okay, no tears. We get on the next train. Get off at our stop. Which I am certain has an elevator. Oh, yup, it does. It just isn’t a functioning elevator. Well, of course, yeah. Who needs one of those?
Thankfully, a nice woman helped me carry the stroller up all of the stairs.
We got to school, almost 45 minutes late, but we got there.
And now I am sitting in a coffee shop, cooling down – by all definitions. In fact, a fellow parent from Carlitos’ school just saw me and watched Xavi for a second so I could run into the bathroom and throw on a little makeup.
Don’t worry, it was at my request, not at her suggestion. Not all NYC moms are that catty.
Okay, I am ready for this to be the start of another peak, please.
Onward and upward we go.
Update: I was about to head home from Carlitos’ school picnic because I thought Xavi and I were sufficiently covered in spit up and Carlitos seemed sufficiently covered in sweat, dirt and something else unidentifiable…….whennnnnn…..La Piece de Resistance occurred!
A fellow mom from his class asked me if I was pregnant. While I was holding Xavi.
Needless to say, the thought of getting the stroller down the subway stairs combined with this new awareness that I am officially so large that I look like I am already pregnant again created an urge in me to walk.
So we walked. 39 blocks and 4.5 avenues home.
Where we then waited in the car for an hour until my husband got home. You know, because I still didn’t have my house keys. I just didn’t have it in me to ring my landlord’s doorbell at 8:00 pm to let me in.
Alright, so TODAY is going to commence my incline. I can feel it.
Final Update: Found my keys. In the trash can. Obviously, yesterday I finally cleaned out the 11 Tupperware containers of old left overs that had been in the fridge.
I would have uploaded a photo of how I went about finding my keys, but I am nice. You would have had to purchase a new keyboard after vomiting on that one.