That right there was probably an omen for the day ahead. :)
Before diving into all the other notable things for the day, let me post this cute picture from our adventure to Temple Square yesterday morning. I was relieved I didn't drop either child for this picture. In spite of what the rest of this post might suggest, I really love my kids. A lot.
A short while after cleaning up the Cheerios Reed kicked out of his stinky diaper, doing a decent job of getting the contents on himself, his clothes, the changing pad, and the carpet. Bath #1.
We went down to Temple Square in the morning then came home for lunch and naps. Reed woke up after only a 90 minute nap, when he typically naps 2-3 hours. In spite of my best efforts, he would not go back down. The next couple of hours looked like this:
- Reed goes out to dig in the "dirt box." (Around here our garden grows a little boy but no food).
- After some time Reed comes to the door at the same time Holland wakes, hungry and crying. Reed says he's done outside and because he's covered in dirt I help him decide where he wants to go next. He wants to play in the garage, so I carry him there and open the door: he immediately starts crying that he does not want to play in the garage. Holland is still crying.
- I explain that I need to feed Holland and he says he wants to "scoop and dump" in the front yard (in the dirt under the Japanese Maple), so I take him to the front door. There are lots of construction workers out (finishing the roads) so I tell him to stay right there to dig and I'll feed Holland in the front room where I can watch him.
- Grab (a still screaming) Holland, change her diaper, go to the front room and start nursing.
- My phone rings a minute later with a call from my brother. I need to go to my laptop to answer a question for him. Holland and I are a talented nursing duo so I just stand up and walk with her to the kitchen, making sure Reed is still in the dirt.
- Holland and I are not as talented as I thought. She loses her latch and starts crying. I tell my brother I'll call him back.
- I walk back to the front room to resume feeding and peek on Reed who...is gone. I scan the front yard: not there. I hurry to the back of the house to check the backyard: not there. Heart racing I get my shirt back on, lay Holland (still screaming) on the floor, and race outside yelling Reed's name. (NOTE: there are construction trucks up and down our street all day, so losing him takes years off my life). He saunters out of the neighbor's yard - they just put fresh dirt in their flower beds, which is great digging material.
- I carry Reed home to the tune of Holland still crying. I know Reed will object to going inside, so I take him straight to the bath, where I think he'll be happy.
- As the water reaches him the bath is pretty immediately muddy. I pull off his shorts and shirt and find that he's stinky. Sweet Holland is still crying.
- I lift Reed - muddy feet and all - out of the bath and clean up his dirty diaper, trying not to cringe about the mud in the bathroom.
- I take the dirty diaper to the garage, pick up the still crying poor, poor Holland, and head to the bathroom to feed her while Reed plays in the bath.
- Since I've been gone Reed has been using his boat to dump water over the edge of the bath.
It was about at this point that I called TJ and asked him if he ever wonders what he misses at home. :)
After TJ came home Reed successfully grabbed a container of almond milk in the pantry, twisted it open, and dumped it into the recycling bin. While TJ cleaned that up Reed ran into the kitchen and picked up the spatula I had set down and dripped it across the floor.
Sometimes I wonder why I eat so much chocolate. :)
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