There are some days that can only be described as
perfect. Last Saturday was that
day. Zoe allowed us to sleep in until 9
a.m. That’s right, 9 a.m. Feel free to say how much you hate me right
now. Then after we all enjoyed our
coffees and milk, we took a nice family walk down to the farmer’s market. Every little kid wanted to pet Mallory, Zoe
smiled and made her sweet talking sounds from her stroller, while Logan and I
tasted some of the fine local cuisine from the food trucks. We then took our sweet angel to the Florida
Aquarium so she could fall in love with the ocean the way her mommy does. She walked around, enjoyed looking at all the
colorful fish and was as happy as could be.
Even without a nap, she never once acted cranky or got fussy. Again, feel free to tell me how much you hate
me right now. When we got home from our
day of fun, Zoe continued to play until it was time for her to go to bed. She went down without a fight at her bedtime,
giving us the whole evening to be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was the best day ever.
Then there are days like Monday… which was not perfect. Not even close. It started off with Zoe waking up before our
alarm went off. It is amazing how much 2
minutes makes a huge difference in my attitude.
We got up to greet our happy girl and hurried to feed her so we could
both get ready for work. We both had
meetings to prepare for that day, so we didn’t have time to ease into our
morning. So we decided to bring Zoe into
the bathroom with us while we took turns taking showers and getting ready. I put a blanket down on the floor with a few
of her favorite toys and she was content.
I go into the closet to dress while Logan brushed his teeth
with Zoe playing at his feet. Not even
30 seconds later, I hear a smack followed by a distressed cry. I come into the bathroom where I see Logan
holding our blood covered child with the toothbrush laying in the sink. All I see are blood and teeth particles on my
sweet girl’s face. Apparently she tried
to stand up and fell in the process. I
quickly grab her from Logan, so that he can get his composure while I try to
calm her down and assess the situation.
Thank goodness that during this time, Margie got to our house and was
able to assist. I was able to hold her and
calm her down while Margie cleaned her face and Logan called the pediatrician and
pediatric dentist to see what we could do quickly. Suddenly, those meetings we were both
preparing for were a distant thought.
(Side Bar – even though Logan was the one with her, this would have
happened to anyone with her. It was a
fluke accident.)
Here comes the good news.
I’ll fast forward through the next hour where Zoe calms down and is no
longer in pain, we get to the dentist, get X-Rays done and discover that while
she did break her two front teeth, it was the best case scenario in broken
teeth. The roots were not damaged and
they are not loose. So while she will
have a busted looking grill, she will still have all her teeth.
Once we all get home and compose ourselves, we go back to
business as usual. Logan and I both got
to our meetings and were able to work… mildly still shook up from the
morning. That evening, I took Zoe to her
swim lessons since she was acting just fine.
We had a great class where Zoe enjoyed splashing me in the face and
swimming like she always does.
After class, we did the normal dance we always do where I
try to change out of my wet clothes while also keeping an eye on Zoe in a
bathroom. It is never a fun
process. I normally sit her on the
counter with one hand on her while I try to one-handedly undress out of my wet
clothes and put on dry clothes. All
while keeping Zoe from falling, sticking her finger in a socket or something
else gross or dangerous. Then it hits
me. I have to pee. But what do I do with Zoe? I can’t leave her on the counter. She will suicide jump and break all her
remaining teeth. I can’t hold her and
pee at the same time… that is a 25 lb. squat that I would be doing with a squirmy
child. Plus how the heck do you wipe? I
can’t put her on the floor because, well, that is disgusting. So I
took our towels that are kind of wet and make a makeshift blanket for her, hand
her a toy, and try to pee as quickly as I can.
Not quick enough… she instantly starts to crawl off the towels towards a
random kid’s bandaid sitting on the floor.
I am able to jump up, mid-stream, just in time to prevent her from
putting that nasty germ infested thing into her mouth. (SHARK TANK OPPORTUNITY – Find a solution to
this problem when you have a child that can’t stand and you need to use a public
bathroom. Think of me when you make your
first Million.)
I shake off how grossed out I am, wipe all exposed parts of
Zoe’s body with a baby wipe, (yes I know that didn’t do anything) and run out
to the car. On the way home I stop at
Walgreens to pick up some baby pain reliever to make sure the swelling of Zoe’s
mouth goes down and she is able to get a good night’s sleep. I carry Zoe on my hip and walk into the store
and B-Line straight to the baby aisle. I
can’t seem to find any of the baby pain relievers, so I ask a worker nearby if
they can point me in the right direction.
After they look at me like I have a 3rd eye on my forehead,
they tell me which aisle to go to. I
grab the Infant Tylenol and go to check out.
The woman in front of me kept staring at us, so I thought maybe she was
looking at Zoe’s crazy swimmer hair. I
start doing my cat-like pawing at her head to try to make it look better before
I am able to grab my meds and leave. The
cashier gives me the same awesome expression as the woman in line and the
worker earlier. I shrug it off, even
though this is the first time people haven’t told me how incredibly adorable my
child is. It must be her teeth. (I start obsessing in my head.)
We get home and see Logan shortly after. He immediately makes the same face. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ I ask.
‘Because you have mascara all over your face.’ He innocently replies. I had it ALL OVER my face. It looked like I was crying black tears. When Zoe splashed me in the face like she
always does, it made my mascara run badly.
Never once did I check a mirror. Every.
Single. Person. I ran into saw me look like a train wreck. What sweet icing on top of my crap-cake
day. Worst. Day. Ever. But the next morning, when she woke me up a
few minutes before alarm went off, and I saw my smiling snaggle-tooth girl, she
reminded me that a few of these really bad days were worth it for the payoff of
those perfect ones.
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