A Series of Unfortunate Events

The past day has been such a comedy of errors. It's hilarious to me how a day can be chugging along peacefully, then take a wrong turn and be completely derailed.

It started yesterday afternoon after my mother came by to show me how to increase a stitch by knitting the front and back. We had been talking about enjoying the simple things. The baby was playing happily so, when she left, I decided to bake a cake. I had all the ingredients for a spice cake (I thought.)

Halfway through the recipe I realized I was missing some key ingredients. (Baking powder, for one. Did it grow legs and walk away?) so I loaded the baby and my sister into the car and ran to the store. By the time I got back, I was a hot sweaty mess, the baby was crying, I was tripping over toys, I realized I was still missing one ingredient, the spaghetti was overcooked and the kitchen a mess. The cake turned out bland and I didn't have the ingredients to make a frosting (of course) so I threw cream cheese, half and half, brown sugar, vanilla, and butter in the blender. Thankfully, it didn't turn out half bad.

Now, while I was dealing with all this, what I wasn't doing is putting the baby down for his four thirty nap. Eventually, he demanded it... at six o'clock. He woke up close to seven. (His bedtime is usually seven thirty.) So my little guy was wide eyed and bushy tailed until a little after nine.

By that point, I was so tired I only got a few rows of knitting done before going to bed myself.

Tomorrow is a new day, I told myself.

Ah ha! Fool!

The baby woke up extra early this morning. Then I proceeded to spill a bowl of oatmeal beneath the burners on the stove. Before I had even had a sip of coffee, the baby had somehow managed to worm his way off his naked-time sheet and poop on the carpet. Every time I tried to oh-so-carefully extract him, he would flail and roll until the only way to get him clean was to give him a bath. Then scrub the carpet. (Came out beautifully with some Tide and a wet rag.) We were also having behavior issues with my sister this morning. I managed to shovel some oatmeal in my mouth before the baby started crying for his nap... all of this before nine a.m.

So I went to bed with the baby.

When he wakes up, I think the only sensible thing to do is take a vacation day from life today. We'll go to the park and play and eat fast food for dinner. The clothes will remain unfolded, the floors unswept, a million things undone. The world is trying to tell me, through a series of unfortunate events, that we need a break today... and also to never try to bake a spur of the moment cake at four p.m. ever again.

I wonder what it is about being a mother that makes us feel like we need to have everything perfect every day? What inner compulsion causes us to try to be domestic superwomen? It must be some internal drive to control the environment surrounding our children, to give them a 100% perfect world tailor made just for them. It's totally impossible. So I'm going to try to wrap my head around that right now and save myself a lot of aggravation in the long run.

Now, time to restart my day.