Orange Day in Hell

- By Schnockered Mom Natalie

I think I'm coming down with the flu. I woke up this morning feeling really miserable. Full of aches and pains and chills and hot flashes. The aches and pains could be due to the recent revival of my exercise routine. The chills and hot flashes could be due to the Santa Ana wind conditions that mysteriously feel hot and cold simultaneously. Let's just say I felt like shit.

Mornings have become a mad dash to feed and clothe my rambunctious (and slightly grumpy) 2 year old and myself in 45 minutes flat. It's always a struggle whether I feel well or not. Either she doesn't want to eat what I made her for breakfast, or complains that my cereal is her cereal, or licks the peanut butter off my piece of toast or she drags her sleeve through the milk onto the floor or she runs away and hides behind the curtain while I attempt to dress her, or she throws her legs over her head followed by judo kicks at my forhead while trying to slip on her socks and shoes. You get the point. Mornings are a struggle.

On and on it went this morning. I tried to appeal to her sensitive side. Would you please be more helpful today, mommy just doesn't feel well...please, please.... Nope, didn't work. After managing to feed and dress her and even remembering to bring the half gallon of orange sherbet for "Orange Day" at her preschool, I hear her call out from the bedroom that she's peed her pants. I run into the other room yelling "No!...." She was wearing the one and only orange outfit she owns. It can't have pee all over it!! Luckily, she hadn't released the pee just yet and I was able to get her clothes off in time to use the potty.

Afterwards, she starts washing her hands. As usual she used too much soap and is scrubbing up her entire arm past the elbow like a surgeon. Everything is getting more wet and soapy and slippery. I manage to wipe her down and am ready to snap the crotch in her overalls. I lean over and get the first snap. Three more to go. My head is pounding, my back is aching, I'm about to collapse into a feverish heap on the floor from the effort. At which point she snaps her head up and butts into my jaw catching my tongue between my molars. I literally couldn't take it anymore and started bawling in the bathroom. The sobs just kept coming even though I could see in her eyes she was really afraid of what she was witnessing. She starts rubbing my arm and asking "You okay, Mommy? You okay?" Which just sends me further into a sobbing mess.

When I've finally gotten a hold of myself I realize my daughter now has lost it. She starts crying. Big tears roll down her scrunched up, reddening face. We're hugging and crying and making complete fools out of ourselves. I decided that this called for a little sneak of the orange sherbet. We both enjoyed a spoonful of the cold, sweet goodness. We gathered ourselves and our things and headed off to preschool.

A few refrains of The Wheels on the Bus and things were back to normal. Except that I still felt like shit.