So you all know how my Friday looked.
What I failed to mention in that post is that our family was scheduled for concessions duty at Butter’s t-ball game on Saturday. M had to work, so that duty fell to me. I briefly considered calling Butter’s coach on Friday & begging for a replacement, but I didn’t really want to do that to anyone last minute. Besides, Bear woke up fairly bright eyed & bushy tailed on Saturday morning thanks to just around twelve hours of sleep.
He was a little cranky before the game, but I thought we were in the clear.
We so weren’t.
After I worked the concession stand for a bit, I came back down to watch the rest of the game. I missed Butter’s at bat that inning because I was talking to either my dad or my mother in law, but no big deal. It was quickly pointed out to me that Bear – despite having slept twelve hours – seemed like he was headed for a nap. Then I put a hand on him & realized he was hotter than he should be. I quickly stripped his sweatshirt off of him [Did you know taking a two year old's sweatshirt off is the worst thing ever? It totally is.] & he sat in my lap for the remainder of the game. At one point, he started crying & generally punching at me. I guess it was because the sun was too hot? Or he was just miserable? Doesn’t matter the reason, it happened.
Then he fell asleep. And I realized I’d carried everything myself & it had been easy because Bear was walking when we arrived. I had a lot of help getting back to the car. Butter got a game ball & he was absolutely thrilled. See?
When we arrived home from the game, I put Bear to bed. That was a bad idea & he let me know it. Loudly. I finally sent Butter up to open the bedroom door so Bear could come downstairs, but guess who ended up carrying him down fifteen minutes later. [Hint: Not Butter.] It was right around then that I realized there was no way were going to get to do anything, so I popped in a movie & asked Bear if he wanted to lay with me on the sofa. I thought I could get him to take a nap that way. Turns out, he didn’t want to do that. Instead, I snuggled up with Butter & we started watching Rookie of the Year.
Then Bear miraculously decided he wanted to lay with me. So he climbed up on my legs. After throwing a fit about which blanket he had on, he finally wiggled around enough so his head was facing the back of the sofa & promptly fell asleep on both Butter & me. Thank God I didn’t have to pee while I was buried under a pile of boy. Eventually, Butter had to potty, so he got down & Bear snuggled up on my chest. I even got to doze for a little while.
[Sidenote: It probably wasn't the best idea to let my four year old watch Rookie of the Year. If he remembers his favorite saying - "Pitcher's got a big butt!" - at his game on Tuesday? I am in so. much. trouble.]
When Bear woke up, he was a chatter box. I knew he must be feeling better. At that point, I realized M was working a double, so we went to visit him & got new books at the Barnes & Noble right next door, because I needed that bit of adult interaction, okay?
Shortly after M came home, I told him I was going to go check on the boys before I turned in for the night. Not even kidding, I’m glad he went in before me. Bear, who was feeling so much better, had had an episode of diarrhea in his sleep. Not explosive, but it did leak out of his PJs. I am so glad M changed that diaper. At one point, he had Bear standing up on the changing table, waiting for me to bring fresh PJs, and he was using the shirt of the dirty PJs to swipe away at the poo that had leaked on to the changing table. It was at that point I said to him, “Stop, you’re literally spreading crap around right now.”
When I told M last night about writing this post, he immediately defended himself. He said he was trying to wipe stuff up so Bear wouldn’t step in it. I told him there wasn’t much “stuff” in what was on the changing pad, at which point he deadpanned, “There were more Hs than Os in that poo, okay?”
M: 1, Me: 0