We Might As Well Buckle In For The Ride

Most mornings, in order to feel somewhat human again, I zombie-walk to the kitchen and pour hot coffee directly into my open mouth. It’s actually really rare that I wake up feeling totally energized to take on the day.

But for some reason that I absolutely wasn’t going to question, the other day I woke up feeling like I could take on the world. Hell yes! I wasn’t going to spoil this feeling. I was gonna roll around in that carefree, optimistic glow for eternity! Or if not eternity, at least for the rest of the day. My baby and I had big plans. We were going to meet my husband downtown for lunch. I was excited to get out of the house. I wasn’t going to let the usual daily obstacles of taking care of a three month-old get in the way.

Well, my first obstacle came bright and early: my son spit up breast milk all over our bed.  “One minor hiccup!” I thought. I swear to God I was singing as I took off the sheets. His precious, innocent smile plus my excitement meant I still felt motivated. He fell asleep and I even managed to practice a little yoga in the living room. . . super mom status right there!

I thought I could do anything, until I started creeping to the bathroom for a shower. As soon as I thought about getting clean, he woke up screaming his head off. OK, I thought. Obstacle two. No big deal. I went back and forth. . . Do I try to calm him down first? Could I shower before the crying turns into full on hysterics? My optimistic glow was becoming a little tired.

I’m not 100% positive that I fully rinsed all of the conditioner out of my hair. But I comforted myself that getting into the shower at all was a win. As I prepared to nurse him one more time before loading the car to go to lunch, I realized I was actually on track to get there EARLY. I was tired, but I felt pretty darn proud of myself!

I walked downstairs, smiling, upbeat—and froze when I saw it. Obstacle three.

My ever-so guilty pup sat on the couch staring down at the THREE piles of blech he vomited onto my middle cushion. Did I somehow miss the memo about today being throw-up day at my house? Is it possible that my dog and infant son planned this together?

I might have said a few words I definitely didn’t want my son to hear. My dog just looked at me like I was crazy. Honestly, I was beginning to wonder the same thing myself. But, I knew what the couch meant. The couch meant I was going to be late. Why I thought there was a chance I would be early to lunch, I had no idea. It sounds dumb to say it, especially because I’m usually late, but the idea of not being early devastated me.