I survived, but just barely....

Yesterday was an interesting day here. My niece and nephew were up at around 6:15 in the morning but thankfully they just wanted to watch TV and not run a marathon. As you can see from the previous pics, K was still asleep an hour and 15 minutes later, with the light on. There's a reason for that, but I'll get to that later.

So, amazingly enough I had the kids up, dressed, fed (hot muffins, no less), a shower for myself, and all out the door by 8:40am. Is that a new record for me or what! I am going to suffer so badly in September when C and K have to be at school by 8am. I dropped the three 6-year-olds off at VBA (a.k.a. "church camp" as they call it) and then it was just my 3-year-old niece, E, and I. On the way to the grocery store to get drinks for Grandpa's party, E was getting drowsy. But I woke her up to go in because we have this giant party that my sister-in-laws and I have been putting together for Kevin's dad's 70th birthday party tomorrow, and I needed to get these drinks.

Somewhere in my head I remember hearing a young mother telling me that their child could nap at 10:30am, but sleep-deprived as I was having to get up at 6:15, I mixed that mother up with E's mom and when we got home from the store I tried to get E to lay down for a nap. Oh dear. Have I lost my mind or what? I've never heard "No!" uttered with such vehemence. It was kind of like that video of Elle's boy that she recently posted, only with more verocity. I finally threatened her with a timeout, and counted to three. That convinced her to get in the crib and lay down, but oh she was a very angry child. I held firm, but wondered what the hell the rest of my day was going to be like. Grumbling and quarreling ensued from the crib for the better part of an hour.

She's got my number though. She KNOWS that if she says these magic words, "Aunt Sandy! I have to go peepee and poopoo." that she can get up. Immediately. She used that on me two or three times yesterday, during naptime and at bedtime too. And this child, she must store them up, because I know at one point she had full-on emptying session, but each time she needed an "out" she would sit there on the toilet and strain out a tiny little nugget, just for proof.

About midday, after we had picked up the others from VBA, I was right in the middle of making lunch... I had food on the stove, sandwiches being put together, and E announced again, "Aunt Sandy! I have to go...". She expects me to lift her on the toilet, leave the room for two seconds, return, lift her off, wipe and wash hands. I'm used to a little more independence now when my children go to the bathroom, so with food all over my hands I'm telling her to take her pants off and then I ask K to help her onto the toilet. A minute later I hear a cry.

"What happened?" I ask. Poor K had lifted E onto the toilet alright, so much so that she fell in! Her bottom was soaked! I would have been enjoying my good laugh, and was holding it in except that poor E was huffing for the big wail. "Breathe child, breathe! It's going to be fine!" I hosed her off in the tub, she was dressed again, but I think at this point she was tired of our house.

The rest of the day with E was interesting. She's scarred from the toilet dip, and tries to get down now before I can wipe her. Wait child, wait.

K came home from VBA with a fever, poor thing. She spent the afternoon on the couch while the others played in the yard with the blow-up pool and the wagon. At this point I think E's forgiven me, a little. But her patience with me has waned. She's more demanding about snacks. She's testy with her brother. He won't share his grapes. The contractor arrives to measure for a mirror that is holding up the whole bedroom project. I keep having to step away from him to tell E and her brother to stop bickering or I'll give them both a timeout. E is annoyed with me.

As the day ended, K had to stay home with me from the VBA BBQ last night. Her temp kept rising. She won't be going to Grandpa's birthday party today. I called our babysitter (an angel of God) to come stay with her this afternoon, so that will be some consolation for her. Kevin took the other three to the BBQ and was sure he would be voted worst uncle of the year for making E cry because he forced her to eat a bite of hamburger.

At bedtime, E wanted ME to read books to her, not Kevin. She wanted ME. I couldn't believe it! So we read, and she smiled and wiggled and wanted me to read more. And as I was getting up to leave, she said "Aunt Sandy! I have to go..."

Yes, she had saved one last nugget. One last gift for Aunt Sandy. I survived.

But Kevin says to me this morning, "You haven't survived yet..."