2 Days

I'm hoping it's just two days.

Yesterday morning, my visiting in-laws offered to watch both girls so that I could grocery shop on my own. But . . . well, neither of my girls is much of a sit-on-your-lap-and-relaxer. Sometimes they require a more . . . creative and energetic parenting approach. It's hard to go from zero to full-on parenting two kids, so, I ended up taking the baby with me to the grocery.

The shopping went fine, as long as I carried Ada in the sling the whole time. But it's hard to unload groceries that way, so I propped the cart against the back of the van and slipped around the side to strap her into her carseat. I reassured her that we'd be home soon, short drive, etc., then looked up for my cart. Gone. I walked around the back of the car, looked up and down the parking lot - nothing! Nowhere!

Eventually, a woman about halfway down the aisle (I was in the first spot nearest the building) said, "Ma'am, your cart rolled past me down the hill here."

I looked further down and indeed, saw that a grocery cart had rolled all the way down the Schnuck's lot, jumped the cement barrier, and smashed over on its side in the Walgreens pharmacy drive-thru.

I didn't ask her why she - or one of her middle-school-aged children - didn't try to stop my cart, alert me, or help me pick things up. I just fumed and worried (she offered to stand near my car and "watch the baby" for me, which actually made me more anxious).

My new purse was on the bottom of the mess, which included an exploded case of caffeine-free Diet Dr. Pepper, a smashed gallon of orange juice, and a dozen shattered eggs.

Later that afternoon, I was moving Ellie away from the entertainment center for the 49th time ("No movies until Friday night, Ellie") and grabbed her hand to keep it from getting smashed in the closing glass door.

She started crying and favoring the arm: nursemaid's elbow, caused gradually by her father and I swinging her between us (we foolishly through it was safe to start this super-fun game at age 3-1/2) and popped by my relatively gentle tug on her hand.

This has happened to Ellie a few times before, when she was a younger toddler, and it's always the same. She cries, favors the arm, falls asleep, and wakes up a couple of hours later feeling just fine. It's typical for the condition to fix itself, so the doctor doesn't want to reduce it unless it's been about 24 hours. This time, Ellie was up, crying intermittently, until about 4:30 am.

Paul and I were, of course, miserable, guilty, and exhausted.

This morning, Ellie really wanted to go swimming, so Grandpa and I (mostly Grandpa) set up the kids' new pool and let her splash around in a swim diaper.

She had a blow-out poopy diaper that I didn't recognize until we were back inside and she was running all over the house, sitting and dripping on the floor.

Bath. Ellie picked up the hair-rinse cup and started pouring water on the floor while my back was turned briefly. Darling daughter, please go outside to swing with Grandpa until I'm feeling a bit saner. Daddy, please come home at lunch and bring a carpet steamer with you.

Tonight. The girl who's been pleading to go to swimming lessons all day refuses to stop crying and hanging onto me like I'm a tree trunk and she's a baby monkey while we're at the pool. We give up after 10 minutes and go out for enchiladas.

The rest of the time has been great, but I've had some bad moments over the last 2 days. I really, really hope this streak has ended.