My husband was preparing to leave for Kentucky...again. He was to leave early Friday, and not be back until sometime, probably late...on Monday. The events leading up to his departure only foreshadowed what was sure to come.
It began with little things...fussy babies...tattling toddlers...bickering preteens. Then...I threw my back out. I'm not quite sure how...all I know is that I was bending over to lift Connor out of his exersaucer....and could not bend back up. Brilliant. Luckily Connor is part monkey, so he clung to me with a death grip, utilizing all fingers and toes. As I hunched over, I slowly managed to get him to his crib in hopes to put him down for a nap. His brother pulled down the bumper in his crib, peering over and grinning at me.
I waddled out of the room, receiving strange looks from the older kids. I tried to ignore the cries from the boys room, hoping that by some miracle they would cry themselves to sleep. It was when Connor's cry turned into a fit of triumphant squeals and giggles that I decided I'd better go check on them.
I peered into the room. I could not see the boys through the bumpers in the cribs...but above Connor's railing I saw a pudgy little fist clutching a bright orange diaper...and waving it in the air. I walked over to find my baby naked....and proudly holding his diaper in the air.
I also found out that my toddler had decided to change out of her Pull-Up...and into some big girl underwear after I put her down for a nap. She woke up crying...and soaked. Changing the sheets did not seem to improve the condition of my back.
I also decided to enlist the help of my sister-in-law to venture out to the store and stock up on easy dinners for while Bruce was away. Luckily, this was fairly uneventful. Although, I do believe she made the formal decision to never have children of her own while we were out...
This was the day before. The fear began to set in. I took some ibuprofen, 8-Hour Tylenol, and a beer...and went to bed.
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