Today I am 33. (It’s still early-30s, so we’re keeping it real with the years.)
Jon’s been there almost a year already. Search and Destroy are both 3.
On Monday, Search came down with a fever of 103. Then I had to leave town for work – three days 3,000 miles away. When I got back it was Destroy’s turn to sport the 103 fever.
I received a gorgeous (and extremely tasty) chocolate fruit arrangement at work. But I was working at home for the day. So I took the opportunity to attend the great Thanksgiving feast at the boys’ preschool before taking Search on a grand adventure to my office.
You’d think it’d be boring, but Search perked right up when my boss offered up the opportunity to bang on the office drum set. Clutching two drumsticks to his tiny person, Search subtly shimmied over toward the bang-bang noise machine before getting distracted by a baseball under the big bossman’s desk.
We left with Search clutching two squishy stress balls to his tiny person, and oh so pleased with himself.
From there we ran into another colleague who threatened to share a pack of Oreo cookies with my son under the guise of “loving little ones.” Disappointment dissipated quickly upon the presentation of a real leather baseball.
“Happy Birthday Mommy!” Search squealed as he grinned at his new gifts.
We went home. Search refused to nap, so we shared three chocolate strawberries while I finished three more write-ups for work.
Three hours later and that lack of a nap had reared its ugly head in full whiney force. Finally a little voice informed me he had to go potty. Except he already had. All over the couch. Accident No. 1.
A number two followed swiftly thereafter.
Destroy completed the trifecta of potty training failure within 30 minutes. So that was fun.
Three slices of pizza and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich later (muppets, not me) it was time for a bath. So I changed the third load of laundry I’d started since 3:30 p.m.
When bedtime finally rolled around it was three books (about emergency vehicles), two tooth brushing sessions and one more potty emergency before the two tired boys were finally tucked into bed.
It wasn’t 33 seconds before the video monitor showed two boys sleeping soundly.
I am now on my third glass of wine.
Welcome to adulthood. Style 33.