At that time, our family moved to the east coast for a few months for my husband's job. We were excited to embark on our new adventure. It was a great time for bonding, not so great for sleep. We were living in a two bedroom apartment which did not bode well for a toddler's and a baby' napping and sleeping schedules. Often, my husband and I would find ourselves either sleeping in bed with Michael or on the couch to avoid Dylan who was in a crib in our bedroom. Every night we played the complicated game of musical beds in the tiny apartment with no two nights the same. It was 3 months of patience and flexing that I can't quite explain. There were times I was really close to cracking... when it's not quite home, and there are so many emotions, some times it just hard to keep it all together.
I will share one such incident that I had shared via email to a small group of individuals. It has been edited minimally, just censored for the general public since my original email had some unladylike language in it. But this the insanity I love and hate. It is what makes me laugh, cry and collapse into my bed each night.
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| TO: A lucky select few in my life DATE: 09/24/2009 12:52 PM SUBJECT: Ridiculous Trip to McDonald's |
I was ambitious this morning and looked for that cool park that dad had told me about earlier this week. I googled it, found the address, loaded the boys in the car, and off we went. It would have been too long a walk to go there, so I had to drive.
The [CENSORED] GPS in the car sucks by the way, always cutting out and saying low power. Whatever. We get to the park, Mikey has fun playing, wore a little energy out of him. Then I promised to hit up a McD’s for a strawberry shake and French fries. So, I google the McD’s, find the one on East-West nearby and we head in that direction…
What is always SUPPOSED to be EASY, well, NEVER IS. As I pull up, I realize… unbelievably, there is no drive thru. REALLY? A McD’s with NO DRIVE THRU. I have 2 kids that I have to get OUT OF THE CARSEATS, walk in, hold Dylan just to order and get our food. Ohhhh, but it doesn’t stop there. I get them out, get in the door, and start to place the order. The lady doesn’t totally speak English, needs me to repeat over and over the items we are ordering, Mikey is walking around, Dylan is killing my arm and I am juggling everything. I ask for BBQ sauce and she explains it is over there and points to a self-serve sauce bar and self-serve fountain soda station. WTF?! Really. A McD’s where you get your own sauces, drinks and they have NO DRIVE THRU. Where am I? Mars?
Finally, we get our food, as I turn to walk to get the sauce and the drinks, the bag rips with our food in it. My hand is twitching trying to balance and not lose all the contents all over the floor and my other arm is shaking holding 20 lb. of Mr. Dylan. I re-gather the ripped bag as best I can and set everything down on the station. I fill my drink as Michael is demanding a straw… A nice lady hands him one, which I promptly take from him and open it up. She was nice enough to hand me one for my drink, which I opened and shoved in the flimsy plastic top to my drink, which I am looking at over and over trying to reseal it. It doesn’t seem to fit right. GRRRRREAT.
Then I shift to sauces… I find the BBQ sauce, grab a mini clear cup and try to figure out how to pump it. I couldn’t just place the cup on the counter and pump with one hand holding Dylan b/c there was sauce all over the counter. So, I asked a gentleman nearby if he could kindly pump the sauce while I held the cup. “Sure”. As he presses the pump he continues to fill it to the very top. Right then, I just knew I was screwed. I thanked him and then knew I was never going to get a lid on it… it was too full. As I tried to snap a lid tightly onto it, the sauce oozed out all over and the lid wouldn’t close. Then I had BBQ all over me, all over Dylan and no wet wipes only a dry napkin that I fumbled for to try to wipe it up. I positioned the sauce in the mangled bag as best I could, balanced by sitting on the spilled French fries, re-gathered the top of the bag in my hand and headed for the freaking door. As I leave, I am teetering the drink with the wrong lid, delicately holding the ripped bag, hefting heavy Dylan, and trying to make sure that Mikey doesn’t walk into cars in the parking lot. We make our way out to the car of the most poorly constructed parking lot that I have ever seen, hop in, and then have a landscaping rig trying to maneuver around our car… F this. A minute later, the rig is gone, I reverse on the gear shift, then put it in drive. Ahhh, we are on our way, phew.
Just when I thought we were good to go, I hear “OH NO! My shake!” in the back seat. And plunk. Thinking I simply had a retrieve the shake and hand it back to Mikey (possibly a little drip or something), pull into a new spot in the parking lot and get out. As I fling the door open, I see 2/3 of the oozing pink icecream leaking all over our Infiniti backseat. No napkins in the car, no towels, nothing to clean it up. I seriously wiped it up with one burp cloth and 3 handi wipes that I had left. I had 2 diaper wipes too. That was it. It was a disaster. Dylan started to freak out b/c he was hungry, Mikey then started demanding French fries (b/c of course he would, he is a 2 year old.) And I just about lost it.
I cleaned it up, with some swearing along the way, as best I could. I can’t wait to hear what comes out of Michael’s mouth later today. And then I headed home. Defeated.
We might need to give a better clean job tonight, but really?! A trip to McD’s in sunny Bethesda. [CENSORED] awesome.
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Looking back brings me to looking to now. Days are still filled with juggling, just a little different.
While living in that small apartment in Bethesda, I very vividly recall 10-month old Dylan's love for opening the non-baby proofed cabinets and explorer. CONSTANTLY. I couldn't stop him and tried to keep things in the cabinets and drawers that were at the very least safe, and if lucky, benign in terms of risk to our apartment.
There was one time, very clearly, when I wasn't looking my sweet little Dylan opened an entire gallon of distilled water and poured it all over our very small apartment. I remember as I hurried around the apartment, my foot went, SPLAT! in cool liquid. I see the empty bottle discarded on the floor and he is playing in the toy box near the sofa. The only thing I can thing is, "that thing was SEALED!" The kitchen and family room were a lake for the afternoon. Our very own 7th story lake. I go through countless towels to clean the soppy mess. Then need to start the laundry that has mounted quickly from our
In recent times I still catch Dylan playing with trouble...in the pantry...in the bathroom (gasp!)...in the laundry room...on a high window sill...you name it, with a variety of messy media. A couple weeks ago I found that he had stabbed a pen into every apple in a bowl on the counter. Or he had colored all over himself (belly, armpits, face, you name it) with markers. And not the Crayola washable kind. He would have three days of the pink, green and brown tattoos all over his body.
One particular time not to long ago, I noticed Dylan playing in the pantry and I try to redirect his attention to a toy in the other room.. I walk away, I just know he has continued his exploration of the pantry again, even after my deterring him. Then, I hear his little sweet voice exclaim, "oh no!" and he runs over to me and hands me the cap he has broken off of the gallon of white vinegar jug sitting in the floor of our pantry. He toddles over and raises his little, delicate hand to give me the lid. I see the distress and confusion written across his face. I seize in fear of the stinky vinegar lake I am about to encounter.
I peer in the floor of the pantry and to my surprise I see the massive container of vinegar still standing upright. Crisis averted. Well, at least this go around it is not all over my floor. I guess things are in fact getting easier one day at a time...
That McDonald's trip was burned in my brain as "not-so-fast" food for obvious reasons. I know some day, I will blink and it will have all gone by...too fast. Maybe "fast food" is not really what I needed anyway.
Didn't realize you lived in Bethesda for awhile. I cannot imagine a swank apartment there with two young children! You survived. Love your stories. Thanks for sharing. Some days mine don't seem too different (but I only have one!)
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