Friday, 4 March 2016

Wear It All - Week Four

Wait. It IS March, isn't it? 

Spoiler alert: Low fashion, high baby poop post.

Feel free to abandon ship now if you need to. 

Also, I think this is the kind of post that results in a decrease in the mailing list. 

No judgment. 

Well, it's week four of the Wear It All Closet Downsizing Challenge and I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that all members of my family are alive and kicking and I did a little closet-downsizing. The bad news is that my grand plans to be stylish this week were an epic fail. I DID have fun with the Blended Blog Style Perspectives Challenge on Wednesday and am pretty excited for next Wednesday's challenge, "Styling Shades of Pink" but the rest of the week was a write-off.  

A write-off I've decided to record for accountability. Also, I don't think there is a moral to this story, except that maybe you can walk away thinking, "Wow. My parenting is going better than that" and pat yourself on the back. 

It's been a week of material mishaps. You know how sometimes you feel like supermom (once a year) and sometimes you feel like a bit of a disaster (every day)? This week was epic on the disaster scale. I've been getting three to four hours of sleep a night for the past several weeks and this week I crashed. I needed a timeout but it turns out I'm a mom.

Can't keep up here and no one is napping.
Luckily one of my friends recognized the glazed look in my eye and offered to take my kids for a few hours and after I accidentally drove past her town, I turned around, dropped the kids off and went home to sleep. That helped.  

Oh, did I mention that I blew a zipper on a pair of my favourite black pants? Strange. They must have shrunk in my closet. This incident was closely followed by popping a button off my favourite black coat. Hmmm. Weird. I see no connection. So my clothes are fitting strangely. That's fun. 

However, this post is not about sleep or lack of sleep or bursting seams.
Uh oh. Make that one donut instead of two. I'm slimming.

It's about poop.

Non-parents, you don't really talk about poop much. You might not even think about it at all but as soon as you have a baby, there's a lot of poop. Cleaning up the poop. Wondering when the baby will poop. Disposing of the poop. Asking if someone needs to poop. You get it.

But the worst? The worst is the poopsplosion.

This week, we had two poop incidents. The first was last weekend when I took the girls out for supper with the aunties and uncles. We met at a fabulous little Vietnamese restaurant and Emily was pretty tired. That was the first mistake. I probably should have bailed on the supper date but I didn't want to face the wrath of the siblings.

Upon arrival, I removed Gabrielle from her carseat. She was fussing. This baby doesn't fuss. That is what we call 'mother's intuition.' I don't have it so I distractedly set her down on my knee and felt something very warm and very wet. She had pooped through a gorgeous little outfit, all over the carseat and all over me. Off to the bathroom we went and both Gabrielle's outfit and my poncho went into the garbage. There was no point. It was that bad. 

I changed Gabrielle into her spare sleeper and I cleaned up my jeans as best I could (It's really frowned upon to walk around pantless in Canada. Very conservative).  We then enjoyed the rest of the evening... By that, I mean, Gabrielle grabbed everything off the table she could, happy screaming and pounding a spoon on the table, while Emily proceeded to whine, flail around, run from Auntie to Auntie and generally be the worst parts of being two that I used to observe and silently and disapprovingly judge the parents.

I was the perfect parent too, until I had kids.:
Karma stinks. No wait. I stink.

The restaurant collectively seemed truly forlorn to see us leave, bedraggled and slightly stinky.

At this point, you need to know that when I got home, I took off my jeans and put them in the laundry basket to be washed the next day. You also need to know that I have a two-year-old who likes to move things around.

Fast forward to yesterday. 

Anyone else feeling like the guy on the ten-o-cycle? Thanks, Shel Silverstein. You get me.

This was my day yesterday.

We were in full 'going to be late' mode getting to a playdate at open gymnastics for my toddler this morning. I realize that I have avoided laundry for so long, Emily actually has no underwear left. As I hurriedly got her into a pull-up she was bewildered to be wearing (because she is a BIG GIRL and uses the potty), Gabrielle poopsplodes.

I cleaned up Gabrielle and resignedly put her back into a sleeper instead of a new outfit (see laundry issue) and we rushed out the door. My rambunctious energetic two-year old kept LYING DOWN while playing. On the floor. In the middle of a trampoline.  To say this is in character for her would be like saying sleep training is fun or baby vomit is easily cleaned up. She doesn't even lie down at night. It was a sure sign that she was getting sick for the billionth time this winter.

Off we go home. I get home and then realize that I spent the last two hours with a giant poop stain (from the baby) all over the front of my jeans. I didn't even notice. I am not even going to have any friends left. Yuck. Now for the really gross part. I DON'T EVEN KNOW if the poop stain was from yesterday or from the weekend because Emily "helped" me by putting away some of my clothes from the laundry room.

All that before noon.

So, to recap, I threw out a pair of black pants, a baby outfit, a pair of very stained jeans, a poncho and I need to fix a jacket. I also didn't buy any clothes. 
Win-win for week four of the Wear it All challenge

See you next week.

 Toddlers = self esteem. Get yourself one.

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