Motherhood Ain’t For Pussies – Update there’s more

Today may have been the longest day of my life. I don’t know what force is helping me to sit semi upright in my office chair in my robe that was featured on one of those “Oprah’s Favorite Things” before I possibly pop a Klonopin and hit the T-shirt sheets. Sadly it’s 8:22 on a Friday night! Yeah, being a mom is a lot like being a single gal in her twenties minus EVERYTHING that goes along with being a single gal in her twenties or thirties for that matter.

My husband went out of town this morning. He had a flight out of Long Beach at some horrid hour like 7 and had to be out of the house at 5:45. Of course he couldn’t leave without first popping his head in to the baby’s room to say goodbye. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Wake the fucking baby up two seconds before you check out of domestic island for a weekend.

Not to sound like a Dave Barry column but why is it that my kid can sleep so soundly sometimes that an earthquake would leave her out cold but at the wrong time you can step on the hardwood floor the wrong way and the slight creak will have her wailing like she’s having surgery with no anesthesia?

So, yeah, I had to get up with the baby at 5:45 with a migraine and lay on the couch waiting for the Imitrex to numb the pain. I put baby in front of a video and tried to sleep but that never works. So we struggled through for a few hours until it was time for “My Gym.” Footnote: My Gym is not a place for an adult with even a mild migraine. There should be a sign. Because even if your headache is almost gone, a chorus of “Hi hi how ya doing welcome to my gym, we’re here for games and some fun now it’s time to begin. Hi hi how ya doing, welcome to my gym”……can make you want to stone one of the instructors to death. Normally I find this place to be a good way to burn off $165 dollars for ten 45 minute sessions but today I was not in the mood. Plus, there’s tons of stuff to do in there but my kid wanted only to sit on the mini trampoline and bounce the entire time. We could do that at home in bed.

Finally that was done and now it’s 10 a.m. Can you believe it? Most people are just getting up and I’m totally wiped out. But we still had a solid 9 and a half hours to go. Next up was coffee for me and then a nap for her. I managed to watch a TiVo’d episode of House but not to take a nap. It was the episode where Julie Warner is on fertility drugs and starts having crazy muscle spasms and then you find out she’s taking Ritilin and her husband wants nothing to do with her and her “drug abuse.” Come on. If your husband’s going to leave you for taking Ritalin you’ve got bigger problems in your marriage. Maybe he was a Scientologist. I guess I’ll never know the backstory in the writers’ heads but I seriously digress.

If you want to quit reading now I totally understand. You probably don’t have this kind of time. But there’s more. And I need to get it all out.

So, next is lunch for her followed by a bout of crying for no reason. I managed to scarf down a bagel while plotting our next activity. At this point it’s about one. We watched some tv, went for a walk then it was time to meet a prospective new babysitter to give me cheaper back up from my regular babysitter who is an actress on the brink of stardom. Or at least on the brink of booking a regional commercial. The baby and I arrived at the woman’s house at the appointed time but she wasn’t there. Isn’t that a weird feeling when you show up to someone’s house that’s supposed to be there but they’re not? You keep checking and rechecking the address wondering if it’s really happening? I was barely awake at this point and in no mood to leave and come back another time so we kicked it in the driveway for awhile and sure enough, she came back about fifteen minutes later. We hang out in this strange woman’s house that I’m contemplating leaving my baby with and it occurs to me that I’d be LEAVING MY BABY at someone else’s house. I suddenly got all jittery and had to get the hell out of there. Next stop, the mall.

I arrive at the mall around 4:30, buy something for my husband for Valentine’s Day, and baby starts having a slight meltdown about having to be sitting in the stroller. So it’s off to the play area. This is a great place for your kid to pick up pneumonia or at least a skin infection. I think they clean this area…never. But while sitting there watching baby play I notice a puddle around her butt. yes, Mom of the year had let her get a totally full and spilling over diaper and now she was soaked. I grabbed her, stuck her back in the stroller, took her to the car, took off her pants and diaper and realized I hadn’t brought another diaper. So, she rode home pantsless. Seriously, I put a sock between her privates and the buckle on the carseat. I need to be arrested.

We get home at six, I cook her dinner, bring her tired and screaming into the tub, read a story and put her to bed at 7:30. It’s then I realize I haven’t eaten anything but a bagel since 5:45 a.m. and my body is starting to turn on itself for nourishment. But there really isn’t anything too appetizing in the house to eat so maybe I’ll order Chinese or maybe I’ll just go to bed. Okay, you’re done. I’m done. But damn, aren’t babies so cute when they’re sleeping?

Okay, for those of you who read the first part of this already, here’s the update. She goes to bed at 7:30 but at about 10:30 when I’m about to finally go to sleep, she starts crying. Hard. I let her cry for a few minutes but she making weird noises and something doesn’t seem right. Running into her room, I find her wailing with puke EVERYWHERE. Nothing in her crib escaped the hotdogs, cheese (lunch) and mini ravioli that she’d eaten during the day. Crib bumpers, sheet, mattress pad, stuffed animals a random book…I felt like just tossing her whole room in the trash. Plus no husband to help calm her while I cleaned up. And then she proceeded to puke again every 15 or 20 minutes for the next hour. Once in my bed, once on the floor…you get the picture. Finally, I get her settled in my bed not puking and I’m able to strip her bed which I can smell from my room. Eventually she’s back in her crib which is all clean (she wouldn’t fall asleep in my bed) and she went back to sleep until 5:30 when she woke up crying. This time she was able to sleep with me until about 7:30 when we both woke up to find she has a fever of 102. Poor baby.

Does it ever get easier?

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on February 11, 2006 4:21 amUncategorized6 comments  


  1. Jess Riley said,

    Wow. Just reading about your day makes me exhausted (but also amused, because you’re dayam funny). Motherhood ain’t for sissies, that’s for sure.

    | February 11, 2006 @ 6:12 am

  2. chris said,

    Yes, you need to be arrested.d

    You’re completely right about the little kid gym/headache connection. That’s why it’s great when they turn three. Three is the magic number! Because then they can go into these classes by themselves for an hour and you just sit on the other side of the class and wave. Oh, it’s heaven.

    | February 11, 2006 @ 12:21 pm

  3. Anonymous said,

    Oh dear. You know, I suspected there might be days like that ahead of me. Now I have another valid concern to scare the pants off me (the main one right now is about impending labour…)


    | February 11, 2006 @ 4:11 pm

  4. Heatheranne said,

    Yes and no on the “does it get easier” thing. Yes because they get to the point where they can take their own showers, run to the toilet to puke, get their own snacks and drinks and entertain themselves long enough for you to take a nap. No because even at twelve years old, they do none of the above without a fight.

    | February 11, 2006 @ 7:00 pm

  5. IzzyMom said,

    Holy Mother of Jesus…that’s one shitty day! I’ve had a number of bad days that were eerily similar, compete with vomit and leaky diapers (and I blogged about them, too) BUT… my husband was there to help me on most of them. So sorry! Hope Saturday was better 🙂

    | February 12, 2006 @ 4:49 am

  6. The Lioness said,

    Hallo! Hope you don’t mind strangers commenting, can’t remember how I first found you but – oh someone should give your womb a consolation prize of sorts, you poor thing. I’d be wanting to cry as well.

    I absolutely love the title of your blog, and your honesty. I can’t be bithered w the “All babies are lovely and sacred and I love every single moment w my children and never lost patience/wanted to throttle them and having them barf into my eyes is everything I’ve dreamt of” people.

    Not a good time to post as am half mad w phlegm and exams and the shit the universe throws at us but there we have it. Will read rest of saga now.

    | February 16, 2006 @ 10:25 pm

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