This is the truth and I’m sticking to it.

It’s Labor Day.  Both kids are asleep and Oatmeal is next to me reading a book.  It’s so relaxing around here right now.

“Now” being the key word.  Because last week was probably, no definitely, the hardest week I’ve had as a parent.

Friday in particular really kicked my ass.  Sorry for the language but there is just no other way to describe it.  I needed to take both kids to the pediatrician on Friday morning.  This seemed like a pretty daunting task with a 28 month old and a 16 day old, but I just sort of put my head down and did it.  Honestly, it wasn’t THAT bad.  I mean sure, if our doctor’s office could realize it is 2014 and let parents fill out all of the paperwork online before the appointment, that would be great.  Because filling out a 20 page “Tell Us About Your Child’s Milestones” pamphlet in a waiting room while your newborn screams is super fun.

Poppyseed got a shot, and I decided to tell her that if she was a big/brave girl and got the shot then I would give her a special treat.  She took it like a champ and I handed her a ziploc with about 20 dark chocolate chips in it.  Chocolate is something I eat about every 3 hours these days (sometimes more often) and so she has caught on to what it is.  We’ve kept the majority of sweets away from her up until this point but when she finds me stress eating a chocolate bar while standing in front of the freezer at 2pm, all I can really do is offer her a bite and hope she doesn’t get it on her hands and rub it on the couch.


Poppyseed did so well at the doctor.

Middle and I were also diagnosed with thrush, so that’s super awesome.  The best remedy for thrush is an antiseptic called Gentian Violet.  Doc told us that it should be easy to find at any pharmacy.  So off we went to pick up the medicine.  I was so proud of myself for getting both littles in and out with relative ease that I called Oatmeal to brag on myself.

Karma must not have been on my side, as 20 minutes later I found myself in the grocery store parking lot trying to figure out how to best get each kid into the store safely.  Poppyseed was still mourning the fact that she had to get a shot in the leg, so I decided to just put her in the back part of the shopping basket.  I’ve allowed that plenty of times before and she knows to sit down.  I locked the baby’s carrier into the front part and off we went.

As you can probably guess, Gentian Violet is actually pretty hard to find.  I asked three people where to find it.  Two of them gave me a blank stare and one of them directed me to Ethnic Haircare.  (Apparently this stuff has multiple uses?)  I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a picture of me but I don’t look very ethnic.

Just in case you thought this was a peaceful shopping trip, I want to just mention that Baby Middle was screaming at the top of his lungs.  And not just the fussy cry, it was the “I’m colicky and in pain and just generally hate my life” scream.  Mothers hear this type of cry at a volume about 1000 times higher than other people.  So when the pharmacist was telling me that I should probably just go to Walgreens I was probably looking at him like, “WHAT I CAN’T HEAR YOU!?!”  He saw the panic in my face and decided to look on one more aisle for the medicine.  I turned the shopping cart to the right so that I could stay on his heels.  Unfortunately Poppyseed had stood up and was leaning to the left.

She spilled out of the side of the cart and landed on her right side.  I’m not sure what part of her hit first.   It was really a pretty bad splat.  She screamed bloody murder and I scooped her up and into my arms immediately.  I was scared to death that she had hit her head first and that she may have a concussion.  I braced her on my left side and the baby carrier on my right and sped back to my car.  I considered going to the urgent care hospital across the street “just to check” her head but ended up just going home.  Eventually I had positioned us all on the couch in a way that allowed me to breastfeed the little one, spoon the bigger one, and google “Concussion in toddlers” with my one free hand.  We stayed in that position for at least an hour and a half with the exception of a few breaks to change a diaper and make a snack.

Two very unhappy children!

Two very unhappy children!

I would have been perfectly content to stay on the couch until Oatmeal got home, but that afternoon I started to feel a deep pain in my boob.  The thrush was rearing its ugly head and it looked like I wouldn’t be able to wait until tomorrow for that super-easy-to-find gentian violet.  I put both kids in the car at 3:50pm and made the 20 minute drive to the old school pharmacy in Bryan that actually carried it.  It began to pour down rain which made getting them into the store really delightful.  The pharmacist wanted to discuss my medical condition in detail, but I put a stop to that quickly by giving him the Crazy Eye (y’all know the one) and soon we were back in the car.  Of course the baby was screaming the entire time.  Poppyseed sat in her seat looking sad and defeated and crying quietly into her hands, so I drove with my left hand so I could reach back with my right and hold her hand.

I realized then that I still had to go and meet our farm delivery person at 5pm to get our weekly subscription of milk, yogurt, and eggs.  We got there at 4:50 and enjoyed a bonus 10 minutes of screaming while I made circles in the parking lot.  I wiped my own tears long enough to get out of the car and get all of our goods, smiled at the delivery lady who probably saw right through my lies of “we’re doing great!” and finally drove both kids home.  We were gone from 3:50pm-5:15pm.  Baby Middle never went more than 2 minutes of that drive without crying.

By the time Oatmeal got home I had blown up his phone with a half a dozen sentences that probably went somewhat like this.

“Please leave your office on time today if not early I am losing it over here.”

“The baby is screaming.  I am going crazy.  Why is he screaming!?!?!?  What is wrong with him!?!?”

“Poppyseed may have a concussion.  What do I do?  She is so sad it is making me so sad.”

“I can’t do this anymore.  Where are you?”

“I have zero ability to prepare anything for dinner.  So when you get here there will be no food.  Just letting you know.”

It’s always a euphoric and yet shameful feeling when Oatmeal gets home.  On one hand I am so glad to see my partner in crime and know that he is going to help me tag team these miniature humans.  On the other hand I usually feel so ashamed at being so disheveled and emotional.  He is so calm.  Seriously, he is the same all the time.  Two weekends ago we woke up and our house had been infested by fleas.  I had a complete shit fit and was pretty much breathing into a paper bag in my bathroom with the baby.  Meanwhile Oatmeal was calmly and quickly moving every piece of furniture out of our house and onto our lawn so that he could spray the fleas and get a pest company to come over.  He pretty much solved the problem in twenty minutes by taking me to his aunt’s house and then dealing with the fleas back at our casa.

Our house can get infested by fleas and he doesn’t seem bothered.  Our child can bust her head on the floor and he doesn’t worry a bit.  I woke up in a huge pool of blood at 38 and 39 weeks pregnant; his mood remained neutral and unfazed.  Oh Oatmeal.  I’m sorry that every time you come home from work I’ve cried half of my mascara down my cheeks and at least one child is crying.

This is the truth and I’m sticking to it… this mama job is no joke.  Wish me luck this week.  I’m told that this does get easier.

I was directed to rub the gentian violet on my twins and then nurse Middle.  This stuff stains everything... clothes, skin, babies...

Fun with gentian violet.  This stuff stains everything… clothes, skin, babies…

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  1. Oh my goodness, I’m laughing so hard over here I’ve got tears! Please know that I am not laughing at you – but with you. Because one day you’ll look back and laugh at the thought that you made it through. I can laugh because I’ve been there! It’s HELL – and I made it through to the other side, you can too. You’re one tough cookie.

  2. Sounds exactly like my story after Gracie was born, genetian violet and all. You’ve got this. Lots and lots of prayers coming your way. This IS HARD stuff. You’re in the thick of it. Carry on warrior 🙂

    • Thanks Jen! I think of you military wives all the time and wonder how you hold it together without a break! Friends? Wine? Friends and wine? Ha.

  3. I am sitting here laughing and then crying, laughing and then crying. I feel for you… My kids are 25 and 27 and i sure remember those days. Hang in there Lola!!! – You’re AWESOME!! And, I promise you will laugh at all this some day! 🙂

  4. You’re doing a fantastic job! Remember, it’s not meant to be easy, and you’re not meant to be able to do it alone. I haven’t been where you are yet – currently 33 weeks pregnant with no2; no1 is Poppyseed’s age – but I’m envisioning many a day that resembles the one you just described. I just keep reminding myself that there will be some good times too, and that we mums can all go crazy together for a while and then laugh about it later when we get some shreds of sanity back 🙂
    Also – I’m sure you’ll get this figured out – but my first would get terrible wind and pain if I ate onion or anything even resembling it. I had to avoid leeks, capsicum and anything remotely spicy until she was well over a year old. Good luck!

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