Another one of those "I Have No Plan!" moments.

Last week, I wrote about a very busy couple days where we went to Six Flags and to the mall to meet friends.  I forgot to mention an experience that I had towards the end of those hectic days, at Planet Smoothie.  I probably forgot to write about it because this sort of thing really isn't that unusual.  What makes it stick out, to me, is it was one of those moments where you are on your merry way, with only the typical level of crazy, and then something happens to which you have no response but to freeze... and beg for help.

As we walked around the mall, I was really craving a smoothie.  Not a "from a pouch" smoothie, or a milk-shake variety smoothie, but the real deal-- fruit and ice.  No yogurt or ice cream.  As it turns out, Discover Mills Mall has no such smoothie establishment.  So, after our visit with friends, with a bunch of tired kids in tow, I found a Planet Smoothie right by the mall.  I called Jeff (whose office is also very close to the mall) and asked if he would like us to bring him one.  We don't see him at his office very much at all, for obvious reasons, so I thought it would be nice to make an appearance and bring him a bit of refreshing happiness.

We made it to Planet Smoothie, parked, and I made a fateful decision.  I was just running in for a few drinks... I didn't need to get the stroller out AGAIN.  I carried Olive while Ivey held hands and we all made our way into the building.  We ordered our tasty goodness.  Since mine was also taking place of the breakfast and lunch that I did not consume, I ordered a 32oz Leapin' Lizard.  My favorite.  The cashier put the massive styrofoam cup in front of me at the counter, and I proceeded to put the straw in.  At that time, Olive kicked her foot.  I tried to correct the cup's lean, but ended up pushing it down.  It started falling off of the counter.  Instead of stepping back, I did the momma-thing and lifted my knee to try to save it from its fall.  All this did was put my knees and thighs in prime position to catch every one of those 32 ounces.  The thick, strawberry filled smoothie sat in my lap, as I crouched.

All I could do was look at the cashier with desperation in my eyes.  "I have no plan!"  I told her.  As someone came around with a mop, I still had no plan.  Do I stand up and let it all fall?  Do I scoop it all up?  The thick pseudo-liquid had no soaked completely through my tight denim capris.  We managed to scoop most up, the rest hitting the floor.  I still had. no. plan.  I brought a change of clothes for the girls, but not for me.  (Haven't I learned by now to bring myself some clothes?)  With all four kids in tow, I dragged us into the bathroom and proceeded to strip down, completely soaking and washing my pants in the Planet Smoothie public sink.  After wringing them as much as possible, I managed to pull those wet capris up, organize the kids, grab a replacement smoothie, and we all made it out the door, delivering Jeff's beverage to him at the office.

I should, but won't, learn a few things from this experience.

1)  Bring extra clothes for the adults, or at least momma, as daddy would just ride home in smoothie-pants.

2)  When you've had a full day, know when to fold 'em.  Don't push for that extra errand or extra stop... The kids aren't on their game and either are you.  It can only lead to disaster.

3)  Even when insanity hits and you find yourself in a "I have no plan!" moment... You will somehow find a plan, in a pinch, and come out okay in the end.  Even if your kid is wearing nothing but a stranger's shirt, you have to borrow money from someone you barely know, or you find yourself in your underwear in a public restroom.

Mommyhood

It's mornings like this that make me wonder how I am going to survive being a mommy of three. Today is a Wednesday, and Wednesdays now mean that I have to have myself and all three kids dressed, fed and in Athens by 9:00am for the boys' new science class at the Botanical Gardens. Believe it or not, I have been on time for the first two classes, even in the freezing temps. This morning, I took the boys to class, ran to Chick-fil-A to grab breakfast, and realized that I had to actually go in so that I could also feed Ivey. After breakfast, we had 45 minutes to fly through Publix and do our grocery shopping before going back to pick up Asa and Addison. Let's recap so far... Put Ivey in the car at the house, took Ivey out of the car at science class, put her back in to head to Chick-Fil-A, out again to go eat, back in to head to Publix, out when we got to Publix, back in after shopping, out when we got to science class and then finally, back in to head back home. This is with 27 degree temperature, wind, a very pregnant belly and an already very pulled ab muscle that I'm supposed to be "resting" instead of re-injuring.

I picked up the boys and ran for a quick jaunt through Wal-Mart. Then, of course, it was lunch time. Although I desperately wanted to hit a drive through, I gave in and let the kids get burritos at Barbaritos, their favorite restaurant. Since I wasn't' hungry I figured I should take advantage of being able to buy less food- now that the boys eat adult sized burritos, I just can't afford for us all to eat lunch there. We decided to just pick up lunch and take it home, since it was getting close to Ivey's bedtime. (Let me just mention that the Wal-Mart and Barbaritos stops added 4 ins and outs to the Ivey-carseat-count.) Because of the many errands already today, Ivey had had enough of the stroller. The only way through the line would be to carry her, perched upon my belly. (I was hoping that their restaurant highchairs would be the kind with wheels... then I could just plop her in and roll her through the line... but alas, it was not to be.)

While simultaneously telling one employee to put ground beef and black beans on Addison's burrito and another employee the intricate directions required to properly create Asa's burrito (lettuce, cheese, cucumber, green pepper, black olives, tomatoes... no, not the salsa, the plain tomatoes), Ivey performed the perfect combination of a bad cough, a little hand stuffed down her throat and a lunge forward which pushing her tummy against mommy's arm.

This combo caused her to make a cough-like noise and she turned to bury her head in my chest. No, it was not a cough. She had gagged herself, causing the expulsion of 8oz of milk and a full helping of oatmeal with applesauce right down the front of my V-neck sweater. Luckily, my pregnant state had created a) enough cleavage to truly channel the aforementioned concoction straight down my torso and b) the need for low-rise maternity pants that created a pooling effect.

I was stunned and frozen, mid-order. All I could do was tell the two employees that I would shortly return as I scuttled with my mini-entourage to the bathroom. I was frazzled and lost. What to do? Asa and Addison were wide eyed as I racked my brain for a solution. Luckily, Addison looked away before he also vomited... he and his weak stomach cannot handle such displays of bodily fluid. (Last week, Addison informed me that whenever he sees Ivey eat, he always thinks that either he is going to throw up or that she is, but I digress...) Armed only with a travel pack of wipes and corporate quality paper towels, I realized that the only real option was to completely button up my coat to conceal the disaster, continue ordering, and make the 25 minute drive home completely soaked in the semi-digested breakfast. This plan, although completely vile, worked fine. I rode home feeling like I had been to Six Flags and ridden Splash Water Falls dressed in winter attire... all of it clinging tightly to my skin.

Anyone with kids knows that days like this happen... and it's surviving days like this that make us even more Superwomen than we already are.

Motherhood

At about 11:00 last night, Jeff and I heard some little feet up and walking upstairs. Being a very rare occurrence, I sent Jeff up to investigate. Down he came with Addison, who had a very "hurt tummy". With his lactose intolerance, I didn't know what was wrong. Was it from dairy? Was he nauseous? Cramping? Trying to get a five year old boy to verbally explain his symptoms while writhing around in pain is just about impossible. We laid him down on the couch and eventually took him up to sleep in our bed. Within an hour, he was throwing up. Jeff and I helped him to the bathroom, cleaned him up, and stripped the sheets. He said he felt much better. And, the precious little kid apologized for throwing up on my sheets. Poor kid.

We put new sheets on and climbed back into bed. At about this time, Asa woke up with tummy pains of his own. I left Jeff in bed with Addison and a bucket, and Asa and I hit the bathroom floor with some pillows and blankets to await the vomiting. Although he was hurting pretty bad, he didn't throw up. So, after about an hour, I took him to his bed. I tried to sleep on a pallet of the few clean blankets we had left on the floor outside of Asa's door. Comfortable, let me tell you. But, I wasn't down there for long. Addison threw up two more times, so I was up dealing with him and the growing mountain of laundry.

Finally, Addison seemed to feel much better and crashed again with Jeff. This time, no sheets. I just put him down on a crib mattress pad and proceeded to climb into the bottom bunk with Asa. Not so easy with a 9 month pregnant belly. By the time 4:00 rolled around, I woke up with a back spasm and moved to the couch. I hadn't even hit the couch when I heard Asa crying. He had thrown up in his bed. Although he was beyond pitiful at the time, as soon as he lost his lunch he emphatically declared that he was "All Better!!" and bounced back to bed. More sheets piled up in the floor, my back was absolutely killing me, and I was too tired for words. Again, I attempted to hit the couch. Through the back pain, I was able to get some sleep until Addison sprung out of bed at 7:20, ready for breakfast and whatever the day had in store. My answer... toast and t.v..

The day before, we had gone to a restaurant in Monroe and had a late lunch. We ate at about 2:00, 10 hours before all hell broke loose. The boys had hot dogs, which looking back, didn't look very good. While we were there eating, the server commented about how slammed they were the day before because of the Georgia game. Now that I put two and two together, those hot dogs had the wrinkly look of being cooked the day before. Luckily, the boys didn't eat the whole thing. Addison ate a little over half of his, but Asa only took a couple bites. With them coming down with symptoms within 30 minutes of each other, Asa having a less severe case, the fact that they are now completely fine, and that it all went down 10 hours after they ate... it was food poisoning. I called their doctor to run it by her and she agreed. The restaurant will be hearing from me today.

I did tell Jeff at some point during the chaos that he should take a picture of me and make a poster for motherhood. There I was, with a sick kid asleep on my lap, propped up on a pillow in the tiniest half-bath known to man, 9 months pregnant and having back spasms and periodic (painful) contractions, a mountain of vomit covered laundry outside the door. Motherhood is wonderful and beautiful and amazing... and sometimes it is downright hell. But, when your kids are scared, miserable, and sick... it is a blazing reminder of just how important you are to those little guys. You'll never feel more needed.

Now, I just need take some Tylenol and try to figure out how to get a nap!