I have been struggling.
To get into the Christmas spirit.
I don’t know why.
Because I love the Christmas season.
But there have been a lot of distractions.
And the 70 degree weather.
Well, it is not helping one bit.
I have been thinking all week.
That if I can just make it through Thursday.
Which is our last day of appointments and therapies.
I will then start to feel Christmasy.
We had our post-surgery appointment today.
Bette is doing fine.
But the doctor had to clean blood out one of her ears.
Which she screamed bloody murder about.
But we got through it.
And then sat in traffic for awhile.
And everyone was fussy and hungry.
So I decided we needed an early dinner out.
We went to a neighborhood place.
Where the owners know us.
And they are always helpful.
And the service is fast.
I thought it would be easy.
And it was, for about seven minutes.
Until Bette refused to sit.
In her high chair for one second longer.
So I moved her into the booth with me.
But she kept touching.
My very hot plate and screaming.
Which was just awesome.
When she wasn’t screaming.
She was flirting with the people next to us.
And actually hanging into their booth.
But they were very gracious about it.
I got us out of there as fast as I could.
But as we were going, there was a battle of wills.
About Bette wearing her shoes.
Which I soundly lost.
We finally made it to the register to pay.
Where an older gentleman was reading.
Every effing word on the menu.
Before he placed his to-go order.
We stood and waited.
And Bette started wiggling.
And fussing and then wrestling with me.
Because she was hell bent on getting down.
But I couldn’t let her down.
She didn’t have shoes on.
We battled it out right there.
Until she screamed as loud as she could.
She scared the crap out of the man placing his takeout order.
I apologized to him.
But it did have the positive effect.
Of making him hurry up.
When it was finally our turn.
I slapped some cash down and then found our server.
And shoved the change at him for his tip.
I know, Nice.
We made our way out of the restaurant.
And it was then that I realized my arm was wet.
And so were Bette’s leggings.
And I think, Damn it!
As we walk to the car.
I contemplate the probability.
That the wetness I am feeling is something harmless.
I put that probability at very low.
Because I know what it is.
It is shit.
It is shit on my arm and hands.
And all over her pants.
We get to the car.
Lilla climbs in.
But there are street performers nearby.
So she has totally zoned me out.
I check Bette’s diaper.
And sure enough.
It is shit.
And I can’t even help myself from saying the F-word.
I strip off her leggings.
And change her diaper.
And wipe her down.
And then strap her back into her car seat.
I stop for a moment and look at Bette.
She smiles at me.
Because she is clean and happy.
And has a full tummy.
She claps her hands.
And tries to say, YAAAAAY!
And she is so cute trying to say her little words.
That I laugh and smile too.
We drive home.
I tell Lilla how good she was all day.
The girls play and laugh in the backseat.
And I calculate how long it is until bedtime.
And I think that any day now.
The Christmas spirit is going to hit me.
But it will probably stick better on a day.
When I don’t end up covered in crap.
Oh friend, I feel for you. Perhaps today will be better. I hope.
Oh my. What a rough afternoon. Good thing she's so cute! I think it's ok to have a year or two when you just don't feel Christmasy. I've had a few of those…like when I had two babies under 15 months… I hope today is more peaceful.
oh Taylor, you're so REAL. I love it. Thank you! Praying you have a better day today- and don't beat yourself up- you're an amazing mom!
Ah, thank you for your honesty, Taylor. That sounds VERY familiar. Very. Even the F bomb. I hope you'll have a more peaceful, chilly weekend.
Oh. That is no fun. I know those days… And your words were so relatable. Bless you… and thank you for sharing. I really do love your blog.
Taylor…this cracked me up…I am hope that is why you shared. You do such a good job of leaving me on the edge and wanting to hear more of the story. It is crazy how our kids can change our mood in a flash.