Mariposa Kisses (aka Dianne's Blog)

Some days start and finish in defeat. The sun comes up and smiles upon you just the same as any other day, but the score has already been set and you’re definitely predetermined for a loss. Well, that’s how it feels sometimes as a mom. A few of those days occurred for me and our family recently.

It was a day just like any other, except that we were potty training our second child, who was almost three. She was in her booster chair when I heard a dripping noise, which later became obvious as urine spilling onto the tile floor of our kitchen. I nonchalantly got the cleaning supplies responding fairly rationally of the incident since accidents do happen after all.

However, while I sat kneeling on the floor cleaning up my daughter’s urine, I heard a noise in the bathroom. To my somewhat surprised eyes, I found the same daughter in the bathroom eating alcohol-filled soap. With feelings of frustration and defeat welling up inside, I cleaned my daughter up and planned to continue disinfecting the kitchen floor. For a brief moment, I literally thought about how the day could not get any worse. However, this was the wrong thought to have, for it was as if fate overheard my reflection and challenged it. Upon exiting the bathroom, horror filled my vision as I looked upon my content but litter-covered baby playing in the poop-filled cat box next to the busted down baby gate. It was bath-time.

Jump ahead about six months to another out-of-control day. My three kids and I happily played during this seemingly peaceful spring morning. No-one could see the dark cloud of defeat looming in the distance. A few Easter egg hunts were successfully exchanged between me and the kids. Then, some very tranquil and happy play was had outside in the backyard. The baby was sleeping peacefully. Then, to my bewilderment, I opened the screen door to check on my two older children. To my horror, I found our three-year-old with a glass starfish up to her mouth with one leg missing. She answered affirmatively when I asked her if she’d eaten it, so my next step was to call 911.

After a short discussion with the dispatcher, it became obvious that the paramedics would need to visit our home. After a short visit with them, it was deemed necessary to take our daughter to the hospital. When she and my husband returned home unscathed after an x-ray which ruled out any obstruction or consumption of lead crystal, we decided to press on with the day. After the hospital, my husband picked up our van that was being worked on in the shop. Don’t you hate car problems?

Still trudging on, everyone was dressed and ready for the twenty-five person photo shoot an hour and a half away. Since we were stuck in traffic and driving with gusto, our carsick baby threw up all over herself, including my new cell phone, which had been given as a hopeful distraction from her early signs of car sickness. We reverted home, gave her a bath, and did actually make it down for the family pictures.

Life can feel like a grammatical run-on sometimes. You want to shorten life’s dramas. You want to add a period, ending the madness, but frequently circumstances don’t allow. I had asked my husband at what point we would be able to cancel our evening plans and he said, “Well, if we blow a tire, then we won’t keep driving down.” It wasn’t very funny to me at the time, but I knew it was an important family event for him and we did end up having a very good time.

Labels: motherhood