I knew from the moment I got up, this was going to be of those days. No, not “one of those days”, but THE day!
I had cleaned up the house the night before so when I woke up in the morning I didn’t stumble over toy cars traveling to the washroom! I was even able to get to the toilet without tripping on left behind laundry. It was so beautifully peaceful to wake up to a clean, tidy, organized house. I felt like a mega-mama!
It’s not that we live in an utter chaotic mess all the time, but more that I usually have to pick one task…..the house can be scrubbed clean, it can be completely tidy or it can be organized, but all three at once isn’t usually an option.
The kids all awoke happy and smiling! We had a restful sleep. Sweet little Lou didn’t have any symptoms of teething that night. Mickey blue eyes hadn’t tossed and turned or cried at all. We were rested and ready to start the day.
I prepped myself mentally. I love having mantra’s to help me stay focussed. I’m not going to lie – I totally stole this from Dory! Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…. but these days I’m trying to do more than just stay afloat.
I want to feel like I have this down, like I can handle this mommy thing with grace and elegance; I always thought I kind of had it figured out….then I had babies 21 months apart. It’s a whole different ball game having 2 littles around. Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE them and love mothering them. But there is a whole lot more unpredictability when you have 2 completely dependant little humans. My older boys were 9 years and 6 years apart so when little brother came along I had built in helpers (who were at least independent for their own basic needs when they didn’t want to be my helpers).
But, back to my beautiful day. We cruised through breakfast. I stayed focused – this has become my new morning mantra so that I don’t get easily distracted from the basics of making sure everyone’s teeth are brushed, that we all eat (because sometimes I forget to feed myself…) and that we get our morning chores done. There was no crying, no arguing, no explosive pooping….you get the picture.
We got through all our chores and school work, we ate 3 meals AND snacks, we had plenty of outdoor playtime, and I managed to prep dinner at lunch time so it was cooking and ready when my husband walked in the door. I felt in control of everything. We even did a pre-dinner tidy of all the toys and odds and ends. We were heading into the bedtime hour with perfection lingering around us.
Despite my desire to end the day perfectly and not take any chances, I even took on baking a cake with Izzy! He was doing great, following the recipe, measuring out all the ingredients, remembering every tidbit of information I had ever given him on working in the kitchen. Even Little Lou, who often loves me most right after dinner and can’t bare to be farther from me than the crook of my neck, was happily riding in the backpack on daddy.
We were so close, we were almost there…..a day of complete TV mom perfection, and then it happened. I saw it out of the corner of my eye. A little hand reaching up, grabbing onto something that isn’t usually there. I ran through all the possibilities quickly in my mind to figure out exactly what those little fingers were grasping for. I turned only in time to watch the lid come off of the misplaced container and its contents burst open.
Little Mickey had grabbed a spice jar (one of those awesome magnetic ikea ones) that had been placed slightly too low on the side of the fridge, not even on the right side of the fridge. It only took an instant and his howling began. And only one instant longer for me to realize that he had just emptied an entire container of chipotle chili powder all over his face; it was in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, and probably in his lungs. He was screaming as he ground it into his eyes in an attempt to get it out. He coughed and choked in panic as his little mouth caught fire.
In a panic frenzy I scooped my little baby up into my arms and doused him with cold water under the kitchen tap. I think this possibly caused more trauma than the spices! He is NOT a water baby. He hates to be submerged and baths mostly consist of him sitting on a stool with his feet in the water while he cries to get out for the whole 2 minutes it takes to wash his body. I can still see his little eyes blinking wildly at me from under the streaming water as he tried to figure out why he was being washed like a dinner dish.
Then, to top it off, covered in the powder myself, I stripped him and myself of anything that might have been contaminated and hopped into the shower. Now, out of my husband and I, I am usually the calm one and he’s usually the…..not so calm one. But I was really caught off guard by this whole incident. To try and calm Mickey while we showered I sang. He HATES singing. I’m sure years from now, he’ll have vague memories of the day that I stuck him under the tap and then showered him while singing and wonder what he did to deserve such torture.
Wrapped in a towel with a now very red eyed, still coughing, toddler, I got onto the phone with poison control. In the few moments between getting out of the shower and placing the phone call, I had turned to Doctor Google for imminent wisdom on what to do next. The wise doctor filled my mind with horror stories of death by chipotle.
The lady at poison control was so sweet. After confirming that I was not a horrible mom and certainly not the only one whose toddler this had ever happened too, she chatted happily with me about her kids (because turns out she also had 4 boys) while checking in with the doctor about inhalation of chipotle powder.
I’m glad to report, that despite my panic, we did everything we were supposed to. And so did little Mickey Blue! His crying helped to flush most of the powder out. He actually fell asleep from crying (and because it was bedtime anyways). So, we had 2 options: we could leave him overnight and see how he was in the morning (given that nothing changed and he didn’t develop any breathing issues) or we could take him into emergency, have him anaesthetized and his eyes flushed out. Given the trauma I had already inflicted upon him, we went with option A.
He slept well through the night and woke the next morning as if nothing had ever happened. I, on the other hand, have developed PTSD – post traumatic spice disorder! I took all the spices off the side of my fridge – which impressed my husband because he knows how much I like things in their place and I had created such pretty labels for them. But I wasn’t going to wait for a curry powder incident!
So, the perfect day that almost was……wasn’t. But you know what, that’s okay 🙂 It was still an awesome day. We survived it; and we did it as a family. And isn’t that really what our main goal is? Not having a perfect house, or perfect children, or all our ducks in a row? But having each other. I am so grateful for my imperfect, often wild and crazy, but insanely lovable family. How about you?
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