One of those days

I figured it was a bad sign when the bus driver went right past our stop, then stopped in the middle of the street and shouted "Hey lady, I thought you were just chatting on your phone not waiting for the bus."

I wanted to ask since when it was a crime to talk on ones cell phone at a bus stop (and maybe specify that I was calling our bus-buddy to see if she was on this bus or the next since my toddler had made a break for the street at the very moment I should have been scanning the bus for a familiar face) but instead I smiled and thanked her for stopping and secretly prayed that this would be it. Please karma, just a few insults hurled at a tired mama today. Isn't that enough?

But 3 hours later we were on our way back downtown on the subway, one toddler covered in chocolate ice cream from head to toe (for the record, not even hers. A second ice cream cone offered to her by a friend. The first was vanilla as I have spent months convincing my fusspot that vanilla is so far superior to any other flavor that there's no point in even trying the others), and I do mean head to toe with ice cream in her hair, all over her hands, dripping down her thighs ... when I remembered that we had to go to the post office to pick up 4 packages being held there. Now not only is this post office completely stroller inaccessible (hello stairs) but it is also the only place where I have been loudly and publicly reprimanded for breastfeeding in an extraordinarily comical moment which included not only:
a. the angry post office employee, an older woman who told me to cover up "for the sake of the children"
b. her accomplice another older post office employee
c. my very own doctor who happened to wander in mid-confrontation and quietly sat down next to me
d. the poor post office manager who practically fainted when I mentioned the word BREASTS (gasp)

Oh, and the line is never under a half hour to pick up packages, and usually longer. The path to the post office was not exactly smooth. Our usual method to exit 3 flights of subway stairs is for me to carry the dumpling in the Ergo/my huge tote with laptop, breastpump etc/and hold the fusspot's hand as she slowly climbs the stairs. Inevitably someone takes pity on us and carries up the empty stroller, but if not I'll run back down and get it. Except tonight it was a very sweet non-English speaking older gentleman who grabbed the stroller. And then he tried to pick up my chocolate-slathered toddler to speed up the process, holding her far out from his body to maintain his well-kept appearances (and I could hardly shout out my usual line "she bites" since he was a non-English speaker) and of course ... he tripped on the stairs because carrying a 2.5 year old away from your body up a flight of stairs is not easy. The fusspot was entirely uninjured, as was he thankfully, but she had a full on meltdown on the stairs (could also possibly be her meltdown started pre-fall from being picked up by a stranger. Any advice about how to get strangers to STOP touching my children in public much appreciated). So now I was covered in chocolate and snot. Sweet.

A better woman than I would not have attempted such a feat as collecting 4 packages at 6 pm with 2 tired and hungry children in tow except ... I don't want to waste our good times in line at the post office so my attitude is "when it's bad, go to the post office, because it will only get worse.

So there I was in the very long line at the post office (oh, and let me clarify what is infuriating is not the length of the line but that there is one line designated for collecting packages, -a practice which should be exceedingly quick-, and the same line is also designated for "problems." So you never know, even if you are #2 in line, how long you may be waiting) when the fusspot announced she had to pee. Now. Haha karma, I've got this one down. I politely offered her either the curb outside or one of the dumpling's diapers because there was no way we were giving up our spot in line 20 minutes into the wait.

I just wish I'd known how much she had to pee because it was rather apparent to all that the dumpling's hastily applied size 2 diaper did not hold the contents of her bladder. Now I was standing in line with a chocolate and snot covered toddler with a distinct odor of pee, possibly from the quantity which escaped the diaper, ran down her legs and was pooling in her boots (thankfully rain boots. Already washed and set out to dry as I write this).

And yet, we got 4 compliments on the way home on how cute she was dancing along the street (the stroller being full of boxes). And when we climbed into her armchair to read tonight she smiled at me and said "Best friends mama. Best friends."

And so it was hard when I went to check on the fusspot later tonight to hear her say "Baby is crying mama. Aren't you going to rock your baby to sleep?" We are doing a very, very modified CIO and it is really hard to do. Until this week the dumpling had never cried more than 10 minutes consecutively in his life (I have easy babies, I know). But I am tired and I need to work in the evenings, and he is an incredible hazard to himself as he desperately attempts to crawl over guard rails or fling himself off the end of the bed ... so our current method is for me to nurse him to sleep every night (wait wait I say) and then transfer him to a pack 'n play. He always wakes up during transfer, and then I smile, wish him good night and leave. Thus far he's doing ok. Asleep in under 20 minutes and no vomiting. I love that he is still cosleeping with us from whenever he wakes up as soon as I am in bed, but I can both sit down and work by 9:30 this way and also not worry that he will somehow endanger himself if I don't run in the moment he wakes up during the night.