This week (actually the last 2 days) I've made some major rookie mom mistakes! The first being way worst than the second. I'll start with the lesser of two evils first.
Tonight I had to run a few errands. I knew it was close to Elly's bedtime, but I had no choice. I have to do what I have to do! So I packed her up and headed on my way. I barely made it a half mile before she started screaming. She's screaming because it's nearly bed time and she wants to be rocked to sleep with all her usual night time fanfare. None of this bundled and tied into a carseat crap. And what was my rookie mistake? Not having a freakin' binkie!
Man did I swear up a storm at myself. I mean, it's not like I don't have the mom purse (you know what I'm talking about! That jumbo-sized monstrosity you lug around to haul all the shit you can't fit into the diaper bag because your husband packed retarded shit in the diaper bag and you're too exhausted to fight him on it so you just stick it all in your purse instead? Yeah, that thing.) on the front seat. Yet, there's not one single binkie to be found.
You want to know where they were? Four of them were lined up next to each other on the bedside table ready for night time combat ops (or you know, a little thing normal parents like to call bed time).
So what did I do? I just endured it. That's right. There's nothing I could do but suck it up. No speeding, no dilly-dallying or chit-chatting. Just there, pick up stuff, and go. Because she's in the back seat wailing!
Can you say MOM OF THE YEAR?
But the big kahuna of the week is way worse. Yesterday, in all my wonderful glory, I put Elly in her make-shift play area. It's a good play area for her with lots of space and toys to play with. We've blocked off the Christmas tree and she can't get out to freedom (aka, the stairs). And so I put her in her area and turned my back for a minute.
EP-IC MIS-TA-KE!!!!!
I all of a sudden here a splat and her playing with what sounds to be a solo cup. Now this is something that's my own fault. Stoofy and I have gotten in the habit of giving her one to play with. So to her it's a toy. For us it's cheap entertainment for 10 minutes.
Turns out I didn't do a great job inspecting the living room before I turned it into her play area. There was a wayward half-cup of red Koolaide. And Elly got her grubby little hands all over it!
When I first saw her I started to freak out because she was splattered head to toe in red. My first thought was Red= Dead. So I scoop her up and checked for bleeding. Nope, nothing.
And then the realization that I'll be replacing carpet hits me and I look around to see what happened. I grab Elly's hands and see them clearly stained red. The white/beige carpet is a nice hue of pink. And one of the throw pillows is a very festive shade of red to complement the green and white stripes the manufacture meant for it to have.
Awesome. Not only do I suck as a mom, I now suck as a friend and roommate too. Triple wammie! I think that means I've Pressed my Luck and lost. FML.
And of course all of this happens minutes before I have to run out the door to be somewhere to meet people. Clearly this is one of those moments where you realize being a mom is great... just not every single second of every single day. And why the hell does this shit have to happen when dad's not around?
Needless to say I'm now a proud promoter of the powers of Oxyclean. If you catch your kid red handed and need to get the Koolaide up, just think of Billy Mays. Since he's obviously looking down from heaven for all us rookie moms out there.
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