If it ain't one thing...

...it's 16 others. In our house, that is. Here is a day in the Life of Megan Hood.
I wake up to the lovely pitter patter of bare feet. It's Dalen reved up and ready to go. It can't be 7 a.m. I think. Mario gives him an extra boost to climb in bed with me and my nose is bombarded with the most gosh awful stinch. Great. Its 7 a.m. and I am already changing a stinky. The bright orange substance welcomes the day.
I notice Dalen is wincing and whining while I am changing him and then I notice he has awful diaper rash (which he never gets). So I cream him up and set him on his way. Mario is out the door by 7:30 and the whining and crying begins. Dalen is absolutely in love with Mario. Simply I will not do anymore. He cries for the next 20 minutes and I trash the thought of a bath in peace. Every so often I am decorated in trash that Dalen is digging from the trash can and I have to swim after it in the tub. I am then irritated I am even bothering to bathe. Seriously, whats the point when you are not only sinking in your own germs from the previously day but now with the germs from the trash as well? Dalen then decides to throw my clean towel and clothes in the floor. At this point, I'm thinking it seriously may be the beginning of a bath strike.
I then get a call from Mario informing me he has taken off to work with not only his keys but mine as well. No biggie I don't have to be to work until noon. Mario returns home shortly thereafter with my keys and returns to work. Dalen then begins to scream his head off again. Somedays I really do wonder if it would be better for me to work full time and Mario stay home.
The crying continues until I feed Dalen. I then realize I have no breakfast baby food so he will just have to eat fruit. Expectant mothers: DO NOT EVER FEED YOUR BABY PLAIN FRUIT IN THE MORNING! I will give no further desription as to what I have to change after that digested. YUCK! I think the odor is still stuck somewhere in my nose. Then I recieve a call of some1 not too happy with the way I dealt with a situation. You know you never can please everyone. Some days complaints wouldn't be so bad, if you had some days of appreciation.
FINALLY, we are dressed and ready to buy toilet paper at CVS. I load Dalen in a buggie with a car attatched to the front of it and he begins pulling everything he can off the shelves. I then realize their aisle aren't nearly wide enough b-c everything is within arms reach. We dash out the door in hopes to make it work on time. Due to the lovely city of Cleveland I park 3 1/2 blocks away from work because if you park directly downtown you recieve a ticket after 2 hours. And there is actually a lovely, wonderful cop who drives around ALL day doing nothing but hunting cars who have been parked too long. I mean seriously, don't you have something better to do? So I put 30 pound Dalen on my left hip. My diaper dag in my right shoulder. My purse on my wrist and after a few steps notice something doesn't feel right. Oh yea, I forgot to bundle myself up. Once I realized I would have to put Dalen down and the diaper bag and my purse and then put my coat on a relaod myself I decided I would rather freeze. So off to work we go. One block away from work I realize one of Dalen's feet is shoeless. Perfect. Now I get to walk another 3 block to retrace my steps and find the missing shoe. I get the store opened and retrace my steps only to find Dalen's shoe was safely in the back seat of the car. I am furious at this point, snot is pouring from my nose and I have no free hand to wipe it with. I return to the store and realize its only noon Megan.
I just can't wait til he can say thanks mom. Thanks for hunting my lost shoe. Thanks for feeding me. Thanks for dressing me. Sorry I trashed your bath. Sorry I make you feel not as fun as Pop. Then I realize I never told my mom thanks when I was younger and never said sorry either. So here is to my Ma. Thanks Ma and sorry.