Happy Mother's Day

Saturday morning was a stark reminder of what being a Mom was all about. At 5am, when the house was still dark and relatively quiet, I was awaken by a small voice coming from the other room. "Mommy, I have to go potty." Forgive me as I have not kept everyone up to date with the potty news in our household, but Josh has been officially potty-trained for almost a month now, night and day. He had been staying dry very regularly at nights for months, so we made the switch to underwear just before we ran out of pull-ups. So back to my story... 5am potty calls. Groggy-eyed I drag myself out of bed and into Josh's room. It was dark and I sleepily checked his legs for dampness. Yes, I was too late. He had gone in his pants. I lift him out of bed and let him walk to the bathroom so he can finish his business and we can get him into clean, dry jammies. As I pull his wet pants off, I am dismayed to find he was not only wet, but there was diarrhea everywhere. The bug that had been going around daycare the week before had finally caught up to us. And since I had let Josh walk to the bathroom, there was not only diarrhea all over Josh and in his bed, but now tracked through the bedroom carpet and in the hallway. *Note to self: Next time Josh needs me in the night, turn on the bedroom light.* This is the part where being a Mom is really no fun. The poop part. So after he gets a quick bath and some clean clothes, I send him into our bed because I am just not changing his bed sheets at 5:30 in the morning. Just. Not. Doing it. There were 6+ spots on the carpet that I did get scrubbe, at least until they looked good enough in the wee hours of the morning. The first morning rays were peeking there way into the windows by the time I climbed into bed. By then, Josh was awake enough to keep bouncing around, tossing, turning, talking and telling us about his boogers. Yes, now his nose was running like a faucets. And he was laying on my pillow. "Mommy I have boogers." Sure enough there they were, smeared across his face and onto my pillow. I grab a tissue, wipe the snot off his face, turn the pillow over so we have a clean spot to put our heads, and grumble about how now I have to wash his sheets AND our sheets in the morning. More talking, now he has his cars in the bed, tossing, kicking, turning. Now Molly is whining. And I am thinking to myself how I wished I hadn't volunteered to help at church in the morning. 10am comes waaay too soon when you cannot get anymore sleep, especially since we live almost a half hour away from church. Finally at almost 7, Adam pipes up, "Josh do you want to watch cartoons?" On one hand, I felt guilty for letting Whinnie the Pooh and Strawberry Shortcake babysit my son so I can get some sleep and on the other hand I wished he had thought of it sooner. All I could think of was, "Happy Mother's Day to me."

PS (We made it to church by 10am.)