It was one of those mornings where I didn’t think I’d ever get out the door. Up at 6am, but by 8:05 I still wasn’t fully dressed or have my bag packed. Charlotte had pooped through two layers of pajamas, and then angrily flailed about when I tried to change her, so that she stepped and rolled right in her own poop.
The cat was slinking in and out of the hallway coat closet…and upon further inspection, I found that he’d been using it as a litter box for…who knows how long?
Charlotte was begging for milk, signing and shouting it simultaneously, but refusing every vessel I put it in. I finally relent and go for the open “big kid” cup, which she demands to handle by herself. And we suddenly have a pool of milk on the living room rug.
The yogurt wasn’t cold and the ice cubes were melted. Did I really have time to examine a broken appliance right now? Just as I’m skimming the owners manual to learn how to adjust the settings, I tune into the fact that it is painfully quiet in the kitchen…
…and round the corner to find Charlotte chowing down on the cat’s dry food. Smiling. And signing “kitty crackers” to me.
I admit. When I finally got Charlotte into her car seat (and she had tried–and failed–to buckle all the buckles by herself), I got into the drivers seat and cried for about 30 seconds. Not one of my finer moments. Self-pity is not pretty.
But as we’re driving to day care, I catch a glimpse of her in the backseat that turned my whole day around. Rockin’ out to Aretha Franklin, the girl was shimmying her shoulders and bobbing her head as if her life depended on it. Really, there is nothing cuter than a dancing baby. All was right in her world, so I decided to let it all be right in mine as well.
Thank you, little ‘Bee 🙂 You really are my sunshine. I hope you’ll keep reminding me this when we have two kids under the age of two…I might easily forget.