Let me set the stage for you.
It's the week before Christmas. My 20 month old, Joe, has been sick all week with fever, cough, congestion, and all that jazz. 'Tis the season. It's alright. I know the drill. I give the sick baby all my attention for a couple of days while two tornadoes named Kai and Caleb tear through the house. The baby gets better, the tornado wreckage eventually gets cleaned up, and life goes back to normal.
On Friday Joe was starting to feel better and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Caleb was a little off. He woke up early with a clump of tape stuck to his hair. How?? I have no idea. At 7 am he showed up in my room in hysterics with tape in his hair and screaming something about a booger stuck in his nose.
Nonetheless, the day went on pretty well with Joe feeling better. At 4:30 we started cleaning up toys so that the house would look somewhat orderly when Daddy got home. Caleb was tired and had a couple of fits during our cleanup time. About halfway through cleaning he announced, "I have to go poopy!!" and shot out of the room. A minute later he waddled out of the bathroom with a dirty bottom, his pants at his ankles, crying and mumbling about something. As I bent down to figure out what the problem was, Joe totted stealthily past me to the bathroom that Caleb just exited. I figured out that Caleb could not get his shoe off and that is, apparently, a prerequisite to wiping your bottom. Before I could help with the shoe I heard that too-familiar splash and realized Joe was playing in the dirty potty water. I rushed in, picked up the wet toddler, set him in the bathtub, and turned around to see Caleb just about to sit his dirty bottom down on the carpet.
It was like a slow-motion movie moment. Can you hear me shouting "NooOOooooo!" in that deep, drawn-out voice?! I forgot I was 6 months pregnant and dived towards Caleb. I scooped him up just before that bottom hit the carpet.
I felt a too-warm little gush. I'm 6 months pregnant with my fourth child. I just lifted my three year old and his weight caused me to wet my pants.
I almost kicked in the bathroom cabinet in frustration and checked myself just in time.
You know that moment where you realize everything is ok even though you just wet your pants, you're holding a preschooler with a poopy bottom, and you have a toddler in the tub covered in dirty toilet water? What?! You don't know that moment?? You haven't really lived yet, my friend.
My phone vibrates. Brandon just texted me and do I mind if he stops at the store on the way home to buy a bottle of wine?
Yes, Dear. I can think of three great reasons why a bottle of wine sounds perfect tonight.
I can also think of one more important reason why it's not worth it.
Yes, Baby. Please pick up a bottle of wine for you and a big box of chocolate for me. We have a lot to laugh about tonight.