You can probably make some (very accurate) assumptions about the nature of my morning based on the title. I considered calling this post “A Trail of Tears and Pee,” but it didn’t seem appropriate to compare the drama of my privileged life with the uprooting and forced relocation of an entire group of people.
It didn’t help that the first thing that happened this morning was that I had to dig through piles of clean, unfolded laundry to find my son some socks. After digging through an entire basket (and sorting things into piles as I went), I finally found a pair of green socks and tossed them across the living room to him. He responded by throwing them back at me because he wanted red socks. At that point, I knew I should have told him to deal with it or find his own *darn* socks. But I was not awake enough to make good decisions and I decided to keep looking. Why did I do that!?!? More awake self is kicking me.
Then, in the chaos of trying to help me older children get their breakfasts before going off to school, my little one (age three) gets up and joins in the pandemonium. By the time the other two were settled with their breakfasts, I forgot to make sure that she had gone to the bathroom, which of course she hadn’t. So she’s got her cereal all ready to eat and she takes The Position and starts freaking out about having to go to the bathroom. Usually I can rush her to the bathroom and she makes it, but not today. Today, she starting dribbling pee all the way across the carpeted living room. All over the piles of laundry I’d sorted. By the time we made it to the bathroom, she had really let loose all over her own clothes (obviously) and, worse, all over my carefully selected clothes that I had been excited to wear because I’d finally done laundry yesterday.
At this point the tears start. And WTF am I supposed to do? There is a trail of pee across the house and we are both covered in pee. I ended up putting her on the toilet while I showered (which thankfully I hadn’t already done this morning) and then cleaned her and then the floor. I’m not proud to say that I was completely hysterical this entire time. My poor two older children at least decided they should probably just take care of themselves for once and got themselves ready for the bus without the usually pestering and nagging from me.
In retrospect, you beat yourself up for all the wrong decisions you made that could have prevented this. The pressure of perfection can stop you in your tracks and sometimes you just have to forgive yourself and move on.