eat! craft! live!

Baking, crafting, mama-ing and taking photos of it all. When I remember.

morning mishaps

3 Comments

04.26.2009: the best junk food our little hands could make

I wake up because the baby is wiggling about madly. (We co-sleep. Bed-share, in fact. Bring on the comments.) It’s still dark. I think, it can’t possibly be time to get up already. I flip baby to my other side, offer her a boob and doze off again only to be awakened a mere few minutes later by…wiggle…wiggle wiggle….wiiiiiiggle. Resignedly, I grope for my glasses, haul my sad bad back into a sitting position and look at the clock. 6AM. OK. So, not ridiculously early, but not when I was planning on getting up. But when do my plans for morning waking ever get honored these days? Ha.

So I take smiley wiggly baby into the nursery. Change her. Let her play in her crib for a few minutes while I write briefly in my journal, as I do every morning. She pulls on her giant giraffe’s tail and he topples on top of her. Hee. It’s cute. I drink some fresh apple cider (yum) and decide that since I’m up I’ll do some diaper laundry. I remember that there’s still a load of darks in the washing machine from last night. A load containing most of M’s clothes in fact and they should probably be hung to dry today so that he will have clothes to wear to work on Monday. Lofty goals, I tell you. Ah. I am being so productive. So early! Now…our washing machine is in the kitchen. Just a foot or two away from the stove. And when you get things out the washing machine, you’re standing pretty much right next to the stove. In fact, I use it as extra counter space frequently. (Is that up to food safety standards? Eh.) The laundry basket is on the floor between the washing machine and the stove, ready and waiting for me to toss fresh, clean, damp clothes into it. I grab a shirt. Plop. I grab another shirt. Plop. I grab a pair of M’s jeans. They are slightly tangled around something else in the wash, so I pull harder. They come flying out and manage to whack the handle of the small pot of water on the stove still sitting there from last night’s late-night hot dog splurge. (We both forgot to eat dinner. Don’t judge.) The pot tips. Nooooo!

Hot dog water. All over my clean clothes. The floor. The washing machine. The stove. Everything within a three foot radius.

What a way to start the day.

3 thoughts on “morning mishaps

  1. didn’t you want hot-dog water clothes? That sucks!

  2. I meant to comment on your bed-sharing-ness the other morning, but I was reading your blog on my iPhone, in bed with my infant. He was so snuggly and laying on my arm it was too difficult to type. :)
    The hot dog water….yuck. I feel like that kind of thing happens to me all too frequently lately. You get 1 step ahead and suddenly something out of left field takes you 2 steps back. My incidents usually have something to do with poo, though, as opposed to hot dog water.

  3. nice way to begin a day!:) you may consider wearing some home clothes or aprons on the future..

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