Wednesday, December 10, 2014

It Can Only Go Up From Here

Do ever have days that suck the life right of you? Or how about days where escaping the world for a second sounds simply divine? Well, my Tuesday was one of those days. It was bad and just kept getting worse all the way up until my head hit the pillow. If my Tuesday had a soundtrack it would've been comprised of the song below. On repeat. Full blast.

After running from one meeting to the next, I finally had an opportunity to be still for a few minutes. Warning-I'm about to write about pumping. Sorry dudes. Thanks to being a working mom, I have the tedious glorious task of pumping throughout the day for my little one. As I went through the motions of pumping and working, my brain zoned out with the hum of the machine and away I went on the computer. That was until I noticed that my lap felt oddly warm. Insert the biggest brain blunder EVER here.

Hmmm, my lap feels warm. What could be causing this feeling you ask? Oh ya know, nothing big, just roughly 3oz of milk pooling on my skirt in my lap. WHAT??? In my going through the motions mental state, I had somehow not attached a container for said milk meaning that every drop had pooled in my lap. This went on for 5 minutes before it seeped through two layers of skirt AND fleece tights. As I sprang up from my chair, milk went everywhere. Have you ever cried over spilled milk? I can tell you now that I have. I'm seriously losing my mind, friends. This could get ugly.

The best part of this disaster? It's only 3pm and my outfit is soaked straight through with no change of clothes in sight. Nothing like wearing your winter coat at your desk for the rest of the work day to cover your soaking went clothes. Sigh.

I wish I could say that things got better from here, but my nighttime activities made me almost wish I was back at work covered in milk. We had a horribly and uncharacteristically unhappy baby who would scream (and not just cry, but scream) if we so much as sat down with him. Don't even think about setting him in his swing, momma. Ain't happening tonight. Therefore, my worn out self stood with him in a dark room when I really just prayed he'd take an evening nap to give this day some sort of reprieve.

Again, I wish I could tell you that things got better from here, but no go. As we began our bedtime ritual of one last feeding, diaper change, etc...Wrigley came over to me and asked to be lifted onto the couch. As he cozied up next to me and tried to make his "nest" on the blanket on the couch, he looked me right in the eyes and peed. Right there on the couch, he peed. At that moment I was just done. Done with a capital "are you kidding me, man?????"

Who else got to cap their crappy day off with 20 minutes of couch scrubbing and sanitizing at 10:30pm? If you raised your hand, come sit next to me. I'll buy the first round. And mostly likely the second.

It can only go up from here, right?

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