I made only one purchase last week on Black Friday. I bought a couple pairs of jeans, a few sweaters for M, and one sweater for me. Cashmere. Okay, Old Navy cashmere, but still yummy cashmere.
When I thought I was going to be a Working Woman today, I had plans to go to work wearing my new cashmere sweater. And I had intended to spend my day working. And I had intended to use my lunch hour to run to a book store to pick up a book or two on Chanukah for the girls, because I'm unsatisfied with what we have from past years. So I thought I'd drop the girls off, follow my own agenda, and then pick them up again. Silly Mommy.
E slept disastrously and woke even worse. We actually decided before she even woke up that there was no way she could go in to school today. I volunteered for the at-home parent role because my work schedule of late has made that impossible, and today it wasn't impossible. So Daddy took L in to daycare and he went to work, and E and I had a quiet morning. We called the pediatrician who invited us to swing by at 10:15.
E spent the morning in just her underpants, with no pull-up, and I wasn't very worried because she had no appetite so she's barely eaten or drunk anything and she used the potty before we left. So we visited Dr. Coleman unpadded. We got a diagnosis of "miserable but not contagious" (double ear infection (again)) so I offered to E that we could go together to the bookstore at the mall across the parking lot to look for Chanukah books. I asked her if she needed to use the potty before we left the doctor's office and she insisted that she did not. So we left, and after we took the elevator downstairs and entered the lobby E's walk became suddenly: halting and bowlegged. Her irregular gait was also obstructing the path, much to the amusement of one pharmaceutical sales rep dragging a rolling tote of samples. Here's how this went:
"E, do you have to use the potty, love?"
"Are you sure, sweetie? We could go back upstairs to Dr. Coleman's office and use the kid-sized potty..."
No, Mama! No way!
"Are you sure? Remember that you don't have any pull-up on..."
No! I DON'T NEE-
Hey! Hey, Mama! I'm peeing!
[Lady sales rep cannot hide her mirth anymore. Open laughter.]
And so we went back upstairs to the kid-sized potty. And let me just say that there is nothing more fun than cleaning up a sickly urine-soaked kid in a child-sized bathroom space. And did I mention I thought a day of this design I more than ever deserved a cashmere sweater?
Urine- and snot-streaked cashmere quickly loses its luster.
So in the bathroom the size of a filing cabinet there hung a poster and E looked up and said hey! What's that? And I did a double-take, because really? She doesn't recognize Noah's ark? She's nearly three and growing up in a visibly religious house and she is very visual. How did we miss that one? So we added Noah's ark to the book quest.
We leave (again) and go downstairs towards our car (again) and as we climb in we notice someone watching us. In the car facing ours in the parking lot, the pharmaceutical sales rep is talking on her cell phone and making notes on a clipboard. She sees us and waves. E loves this. Mama! That's the lady who thinks my pee is funny!
We ransack Border's and bemuse many innocents subjected to our conversation about the tall lady who thinks pee is funny. We have five new Chanukah books (!) but we can't find a simple Noah's ark story book; they're all part of My First Bibles or similar. Someone comments that she thinks she saw a Noah's ark book in the bargain bin. For only $5.48, we got a story book that comes with pieces to play with twice and lose! Yay!
Which is when I decided that since she wasn't contagious, I deserved a Bertucci's woodfired eggplant pizza for lunch.
Four hours, one lunch and one nap and much playtime later, I have three papercuts from assembling die-cut paperboard animal pairs. We still haven't read through the whole story of Noah.