On Wednesday I had to take both boys in for their well child exams and they both got shots. Thankfully, my mother-in-law came with me to help wrangle the boys but afterward they were both super cranky all day.
I had to wake them up an hour early so we could get to the doctor on time because I wanted a first AM appointment so we could avoid all the sickos. When we got home, Oscar only napped for one hour (usually he naps for 2-3 hours), so you can add exhaustion to my already cranky toddler (he got his DTap booster, ouch).
While I was fixing dinner for some friends who were coming by to give me some adult conversation, Oscar ate and ink pad, pooped three times in two hour, and dumped his juice all over the floor and smeared it around. Let me say that again: he ate an ink pad, pooped three times and gave my floor a juice bath. He was in his glory. I mean, any one of those things is standard Oscar behavior on any day of the week, but all three? And pooping three times in two hours? Really? Three times? What am I feeding this kind? Horse laxatives?
Then, during dinner with, he proceeded to throw all his food on the floor, kick the underside of the dinner table and scream, "all done! all done! all done!" for the entire meal. Also, Miles was wailing the WHOLE TIME.
Pam offered to hold Miles while I put Oscar down for bed. Well Miles cried almost the entire time I was putting Oscar down. And Oscar, who hasn't cried at bed time in, oh, eight months, decided to let it rip. Screaming. I finally calmed him around the time Miles cooled his jets.
During all of this, my brother's dog Sophie, who is on cortisone for a slipped disc in her neck (I know, WTF?), peed on the floor. My friend Pam cleaned it up, bless her, because I'd had a kid tied to my boob for 45 minutes.
When Pam and her husband and son left, I prepared to go upstairs only to find Sophie had peed one the floor. Again. So I cleaned that up, went upstairs and got Miles down. I headed down stairs to watch some Idol (don't judge) and on my way downstairs, I discovered the my dog Nebo had vomited on the stairs so profusely (although completely silently) that it dripped down FIVE steps. Five, FIVE STEPS of DOG VOMIT.
So, I went downstairs to get some towels to clean up the vomit and I called all the dogs to go out one last time before bed. And Sophie cowered in the corner which only means one thing: she peed on the floor AGAIN. For those of you keeping count, this is the third time she peed on the floor. I'm not lying. I looked around and found the pee and it was this tiny spot. She didn't even really have to go. She just peed on my floor for spit. For spite, I tell you.
I think dogs speak toddler, or toddlers speak dog because they are so ganging up on me. And did I mention that Nelson is in California and missed this lovely poop/pee/vomit filled day? Oh yes he is. And I hate him a little bit for it.