Happy Baby

It's always an adventure when Curt goes out of town. Not that he does that very much or anything. This time he went up to Irving to celebrate Pastor John's 40th birthday with some awesome guys that he doesn't see very much anymore. I was so happy for him to go because I do stuff with my friends all the time and he hardly ever does. But of course as the day approached I started dreading having the kids by myself.

I kept telling myself to be a big girl. I had a friend coming over Friday night to watch movies and eat Chinese food and a babysitter coming over on Saturday so I could shop for some anniversary, Father's Day, and birthday presents. The only real obstacle would be the grocery store and FedEx/Kinko's trip I needed to make.

Despite it being so hot and humid that my makeup was melting off and my hair curling, the errand run went very well. So well, in fact, that on the way home I was writing a blog post in my mind of how to set yourself up for grocery shopping success with your infant and three-year-old. It involved a unicorn pop and paying the sacker to help you to the car. I've never asked for that help before, but I decided that this summer, when it's so hot that even Satan is sweating as he sits on his throne on Houston's freeways, I will fork over a few bucks and let the teenage boy help me. (Y'all the heat index is already reaching and exceeding 100 degrees here. It's sick.)

But there has to be an equilibrium. The grocery store trip can't go that well without something else going wrong. Once I got all the groceries put away and had already doled out three different items that my son was requesting, I went to pluck poor Annabeth, who was patiently waiting in the living room, out of her infant carrier. And of course, OF COURSE there was slimy poo oozing out of her diaper and all up the back of her "Happy Baby" onesie. It was all over the car seat cover, which had to be stripped off and washed. I can't wait to put that thing back on. Lord help me.

Annabeth looks so cute in her Happy Baby Onesie, but every time she wears it she's either unusually fussy, gets a fever, or has a blow out. I considered tossing it when I saw how incredibly inundated with poop it was, but Annabeth's Aunt Melissa gave it to her. I just couldn't do it. So, Melissa, I want you to know that cleaned the poop for you. Because I love you so much. I want you to move home so I can train you how to have successful children-in-tow shopping trips and how to power wash poop-filled onesies with your kitchen sink sprayer. These are things you'll need to know one day when you're birthing me some nieces and nephews.

By the way, if you see me at the mall today and I look tired, there's a good reason for that. Jackson couldn't sleep last night and I let him sleep in the bed with me. He woke up all night long and talked to me in a loud voice as if he'd been wide awake for hours. Then at 6 am he alerted me to the fact that he'd wet the bed. My bed. My heavenly bed. That's when he got a shower and I abandoned the bed for the couch. It's only 9:49 but it feels like it should be noon.

Nevertheless, mall, here I come! And if I had a Happy Mommy onesie I'd be wearing it! Not really though.