Taylor and I had dentist appointments today. I had scheduled them six months ago, thinking that since it was summer, Ryan would be home to babysit.
Last night at 10:00PM, I realized that Ryan would be out of town and that meant.... (insert scary music)...I would have to take ALL.OF.THE.KIDS. with me to the dentist. Our dentist appointments were both at the same time, so it wasn't even possible for Taylor and I to take turns watching them in the waiting room.
I would be taking N.I.N.E. kids with me to the dentist. Could any thought be more dreadful? I had visions of them running around terrorizing the office staff while I lay incapacitated in the dentist chair.
I gave them pizza for lunch before realizing that the three youngest ones were going to cover themselves in pizza sauce right before we left. urgh. Out came the bibs, and I told them not to wipe pizza sauce on their shirts. They took this very seriously. When I was cleaning them up, I noticed that all of them had pizza sauce on the BACK of their shirts. They all sit in a row at the table and apparently, they chose to wipe pizza sauce on the shirt of the person NEXT to them.
We didn't have time to change, so off we went, pizza sauce and all. The eyes of the receptionist got very large as we all came straggling in. I had given the kids a little talk before we got there, explaining that they had to be quiet since people actually WORK there and couldn't make phone calls with kids running around screaming. They all nodded solemnly and promised to be quiet.
And you know what? They were! (Although Jillian made some minor complaints about Jake.) I had worried all for nothing. Jillian stayed in the waiting room with four of the kids, and Molly, Zoey and Kate came with me. Molly read some books to the little girls and they were perfect. Toward the end, Zoey came over and watched what was happening in my mouth. She got about three inches from my face--it was so cute.
While I was getting x-ray's, the girls had to step out. While in the hallway, someone asked Molly if Zoey and Kate were her sisters. Molly said, 'Yes, but I have WAY more than this! If you want to see them, you can go out to the waiting room. They're all out there."
Oh my goodness...I was cracking up! So was the girl who was doing my teeth.
I swung by McDonalds on the way home to get them all ice cream since they had been so good. It was a surprisingly good end to a very exasperating week.
Kate developed diarrhea. While potty-training. While wearing underwear. As everyone knows, underwear will not hold an explosive blast. After one disgusting mess, I switched to Pull-ups because I'm smart that way. ha. Guess what? Pull-ups don't hold explosive blasts either.
Here is a statement you never want to hear...
"Mom! Mom! Kate pooped on the floor and I stepped in it!" This statement is made by a child who is running upstairs to tell me.
"Did you wash your feet before you ran all the way up here?"
Kate and Jake also have not grasped the concept that one must WIPE before sliding off the seat. Don't want to get too graphic...so hope you follow that. Let's just say, I've cleaned up more smears that I care to count because as I am coming in to wipe them, they excitedly slide off, in a huge hurry to collect their M & M prize. The other day, Kate snuck upstairs to do her deed and came down to tell me. Only she got tired of walking down the stairs and half way down, she sat so that she could butt-bounce the rest of the way down. With lots of um...you know...poop on her bum. Well, there wasn't any on her bum by the time she got to the bottom because she had deposited some on each step. You don't want to know how long it took me to scrub that.
Oh... and the dog got into the act, too. She got sick on something that she probably stole out of the garbage. Why can't dogs barf all in one spot? Noooo...they need a separate spot for each heave, which meant there were three disgusting areas for me to scrub.
The other day when we returned from our fun trip to Gre*nfield Village, it was dinner time. Everyone was hungry and of course I hadn't thought ahead to put something in the crock-pot. Jake had held his pee all day because he can only 'go' on his home turf. Alas, he fell asleep the last half hour of the trip and soaked himself and his carseat. He was literally DRIPPING when I lifted him out...all sleepy and grumpy that I had awakened him. The kids were hungry and whining and Jeff was out of town. As our whiny, hot, tired and bedraggled entourage entered the house, I was greeted by garbage strewn across the kitchen floor. Culprit? The dog. URGH. As I stood there surveying the mess and feeling overwhelmed, Jillian ran up to her room for something and came down yelling.
"Mom! The dog peed on our bed!!!"
Energy that I didn't know I still possessed, surged through me as I ran upstairs to check on the latest tragedy. Sure enough. There was a big yellow spot that had soaked almost through to the mattress. (Insert very angry feelings) Apparently, there had been a thunder storm while we were gone and our dog--who shakes violently during thunderstorms--had lost control of her bladder muscles on the girls' bed, where she shouldn't have been sleeping in the first place.
All I can say is that the kids better remember all of this someday when I am having bladder and bowel problems in The Home for the Aged.