lost swim trunks, mommy wisdom on the fly, and massive choking hazards on sticks

Confession: I had a total meltdown the other day.

I was on my way out the door. At least I thought I was on my way. And then I was reminded ever so non-gently by the mom-juju-crisis-gods of the diaper bag universe, that I have offspring. And that means I am never “on my way out.”


At least not successfully, within the given time frame at which point I was expected to arrive. I have three children, four and under. {Aiden will be five in August, and is becoming more of a help, but I’m riding this cash cow all the way to the bank, and it sounds waaaay more dramatic with the whole 3/4 thing…so humor me. I’m a victim of faulty birth control, kay? Let me roll in the self inflicted misery while I claim its not my fault, for a bit.}

This whole I’m-a-mom-of-three-kids thing, isn’t really what I signed up for.

{Is it too late for them to take my name off the list?}

It all started with the fact that I couldn’t find Malone’s swimsuit. And then Emerson needed her paci. We only have one Emerson paci left. It was probably wedged in her diaper somewhere, because I looked everywhere except her butt crack. Then I couldn’t locate the sunscreen. And I had to put their sippy cups together…(side tangent: is it just me or does anyone else loath sippy cups? As if I don’t have enough to do, let me sit down and try to put together three 3-d jigsaw puzzles with completely different pieces all so you can enjoy your drinks, which will inevitably leak while we’re out, and should have been done five hours PREVIOUSLY all so I can get out of the door in time?) And FYI, I’m not a bartender. There will be no drink requests taken. You can have water or juice. Get over it. Bane. Existence.

And before I knew it, Malone had pooped his pants (again) and it had leaked out. And Emerson was following me around the house screaming “HOOOOOLLLLLDDDDDDD MMMMMEEEEEEE!!!” And the dog vomited on the carpet. And Emmy’s diaper fell off, so she was now walking around naked, screaming those words, after she said “my diaper fell off!” (no paci, btw) and Aiden was running like a wild banshee and busted his head on the kitchen table. And at some point, I think the dog dry heaved again before I realized it and put her out.

It was like some supersonic simultaneous implosion of all things good and happy in my life. Replaced with poop and dog vomit and hopeless feeling that I never get anything right.

And I wanted to curl up and die. Yeah. I know. Woe is me.

So instead of curl up and die route, I opted to call Jamin. To talk about curling up and dying. To see if he knew where the sunscreen was. Who was in the middle of a staff meeting, and had better things to do, like say, making a living, rather than listening to his psychotic wife balling her eyes out. Screaming how “things aren’t supposed to be this hard,” and “I’m never enough,” and “I suck at life,” and “my children are going to die of stage 4 melanoma because I can’t find the sssssuuuuuunnnnn screeeeeeeeennnn…” and I think my words became garbled at some point, because Jamin just sat there and listened while I went to the point of no return with the Oprah cry.

He then gently suggested that I stop on my way to the pool and buy some more sunscreen.


Yes, at that point, I do realize I needed a healthy dose of perspective in my life. Perhaps a life skills course on time management and organization. But for that particular glorious Tuesday, sometimes a random sobfest can work wonders.

When we finally arrived at the pool, we were the first ones there. Malone’s swimsuit was at our friends house, and I borrowed some sunscreen. When lamenting to my co mommies, one of my wiser friends said this (which I am ultimately stealing) “I can either be on time, or I can be prepared. Take your pick.” (shout out to Tricette. Woot. Woot.)

SO, in honor of my meltdown, and in desperate hopes that some of you out there know what I’m talking about, I’ve concocted a special list of must-remember items for the mom on the go. These are, coincidentally, the items that usually cause my, uh, tardiness.

1. keys.

Yeah. I can never find these. Half the reason I’m always late.

2. phone

Once I find the keys, the other reason I’m always late. So I guess we can scratch the rest.

3. diapers.

If you think you have enough diapers, pack more diapers. If you run out of diapers, make sure you have enough pads. And duct tape. These work wonders. just sayin.

4. wet wipes.

If you fail to pack these, your children will ultimately have crusty boogers the size of Saskatchewan. After you use all the wet wipes on the crusties, they will then have five poo filled accidents each, at which point you will have to use your sleeve. Even the potty trained ones. In the middle of the Burger King playground. With everyone watching. It’s a blast.

5.  extra outfits

I never pack these. I think I own three outfits stolen from our church nursery, as my children think its a blast to let loose their bowels as soon as we are in an important place. Like worship. They’re all, “I love Jesus. SSSPPPLLLURRRRBBBBTTTTT.” This happened to Malone at the zoo recently. You would have thought I was walking out with an orangutan on my shoulder. People thought it was the best thing ever.  I should have charged money every time someone had a helpful comment.

6. Sippy cups

After you have assembled afore mentioned sippy cups to use on your outing, do not forget to remove them from your bag or car after the fact. In the heat of an Alabama summer, fermented apple juice and curdled milk are not my favorites. It’s really too bad the SC’s cost an average of a whopping 4 bucks a pop, or I would gladly chunk. Instead, I place them in the sink and wait for Jamin to notice. Thanks Jamin.

7. Pacies

** ammendment: pacies and lovies. Unless you prefer to hear the words IWANTMYPACIEIWANTMYLOVIEIWANTMYPACIEIWANTMYLOVIEIWANTMYPACIEIWANTMYLOVIEIWANTMYPACIEIWANTMYLOVIE the entire time you are out. Trust me. Don’t forget.  I usually respond with IWANTAMILLIONBUCKSSHUTYOURMOUTHBEFOREIDRIVETHISCAROFFTHENEARESTCLIFFINTOABLAZINGDEATHTRAPThat works too, but takes waaay too much energy.

8. Hand sanitizer

Unless you want your children licking feces off their hands after they play in the play space and before they eat.

Bonus points:

For the over acheiving mom: (in no particular order) band aids (again, your sleeve will do. This is why i never look cute.) art supplies, various toys to dangle over their heads (tampons also work well for all of the previous) and snacks. (tampons do not work well for that.) And for BONUS bonus points, choking hazards on a stick. Like giant lollipops. they start to scream, and you shove it in, and they’re all concentrating and stuff. Quietly. Before you know it, old people are commenting on how well behaved your children are. And when they reach out to touch them, they’re sticky, drooly messes. It’s a win win. Shuts the kids up, and teaches dirty old people not to touch your kids.

It’s awesome. I highly recommend.

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