really? (road trip style)

Two weeks ago, on our way to the beach, I called Curtis to tell him that our kids were "rockstars". Cooper had slept for 1 1/2 hours (he normally maxes out at 45 minute naps in the car) and Annabelle slept for 2 1/2! I couldn't believe it.

Last week, on our way home, it was a different story. A long story, I apologize. As a preface: I love my children and I love my life, but days like this are too ridiculous not to share.

(I tried so hard to time the trip well, taking nap times and city locations into account, as I'm still a little intimidated to take road trips with my wild toddler and nursing baby by myself. Despite Annabelle having only slept about 30 minutes and Cooper on the brink of falling asleep already, we arrived at our lunch stop fairly unscathed. Then the fun began.)

Unload kids from the car, into the 95 degree heat, and head into McDonalds. I hate McDonalds. But I love my son and he loves the play place and desperately needs an energy outlet. Remind him 3 times before we got out of the car that we would have to go to the bathroom first, in order to avoid the tantrum that would surely come otherwise. Breathe a sigh of relief as we head to the bathroom without aforementioned tantrum.

After "mommy" uses the restroom, decide to go ahead and check Cooper's diaper. Surprised to find that it is soaking wet. So are his shorts and (I assume) his car seat. Lovely. After covering the changing table with paper liners, plop him up there and put on a new diaper. I do not have extra shorts. Out we go, back into the heat, Annabelle's car seat in one hand, Cooper's hand in the other. Search through the trunk to find a clean pair of shorts while keeping one eye on Cooper to make sure he stays on the sidewalk where I left him. Put on the shorts and go inside again.

We bypass the food altogether. Cooper doesn't want to eat and, to be honest, neither do I. We'll get it when we leave. Despite the blazing heat, he is in heaven on the playground. I, on the other hand, must feed Annabelle. After going through all possible scenarios in my mind, I decide that I must nurse her then and there. At least there is some shade. Unbuckle and begin to lift her out. Ew. I feel ooze. She has pooped through out of her diaper and through her clothes. And on to her car seat. (P.S. She hasn't pooped in a week. A week! Chooses the car ride. Every time.) With no other option, since Cooper is somewhere atop the jungle gym maze, must lay her down on the oh-so-clean McDonalds picnic table bench and clean her up. After using up the last of my wipes on her and her seat, she gets a new diaper and onesie. Okay, crisis averted. I can handle this.

Time to nurse. It is hot. So. Stinking. Hot. I put on my nursing drape cover and try to situate us so that we're not flashing anyone. Within seconds, we are both sweating like stuffed pigs. Cooper is still having a blast, squealing and stopping to poke his head through random holes and yell to me. Try to smile and share in his enthusiasm while also trying to make sure my poor baby girl is not having a heat stroke in there. Cooper is trying to yell something to me again, but I cannot make it out. Unable to handle any more. Stop nursing Annabelle and pray that she had enough to get her home.

Cooper isn't coming down the slide. Why, I wonder. Call to him a few times and hear his voice but, again, can't make out the words. Finally see his little legs returning down the stairs. He quickly and enthusiastically informs me, "I went poopy, Mommy! I went poopy!". Of course you did.

Annabelle is stuck back into her hopefully-clean car seat, and we head inside. Ahhh. Air conditioning. Coop is crying because we are leaving the playplace. Annabelle's toy falls out and a man picks it up for me. I clearly look frazzled because he says, "You sure do have your hands full!". Yeah, in every way. Okay, to the bathroom. Wait. No more wipes. Big sigh. We head outside. Search the trunk for more wipes while maintaining watchful eye. Back in the bathroom, changing table is lined, Cooper is cleaned up again. I pee again as Cooper tries to climb under the door. Do. NOT. Do. That.

Make it to the food counter and the lady asks if she can help me. Say, "I need just a minute" and scour the menu for something that looks good. Anything? Might need more than a minute. My little Curious George tries to go behind the counter. Upon being told  "no", he begins to cry and ask to go back to the playplace. Oh heavens. Look across the counter- "Never mind. We'll go through the drive-thru."


Through the door, into the heat, load up the car. Order lunch that Cooper won't eat and I won't like. Can't roll down window because it's broken, so I have to open my door to order, pay, and get the food. Drive away. Far, far away. Reflect on the last hour...

Really?