Thursday, January 5, 2012

The Flip Side of This Stay-at-Home-Mom Thing, with a Silver Shoe Lining

You might understandably believe that I'm trying to paint a sunshine & rainbows-y picture of my stay-at-home-mom state based on this & this recently.

This morning, however, served as a wonderful, if unwelcome, reminder of the painfully un-chic moments on this job, the ones where I wonder, "Which (glass bowl) put me in charge of this household, and why did I accept? *This* is the highest & best use of my fancy-pants degrees?"*

*Mildly important sidebar: Yes, I'm aware that I'm a prude who swears in parenthetical substitutes. The great thing about being in your thirties is accepting yourself for who you are, pearl-clutching prudery and all. Plus, the Anonymous Husband curses enough for the two of us, pinky swear (but I won't).*

In an unfortunate series of events, here's how my morning evolved as I was attempting to get the wee CEO out the door for our playgroup. Yes, I'm typing this to you from my Betty Draper-style fainting couch (or wish that I was, if we're slavishly sticking to facts here):
  • The commode spontaneously exploded (iiiiiick) (talk about a glass bowl problem) (Haute Mommy, didn't this happen to you too recently?) (parentheses);
  • I looked around for a staff member to take care of the problem;
  • Recalled that I *am* the staff and attempted to remedy the problem (iiiick) while keeping my curious, must-be-involved-in-everything 18-month-old out of the room;
  • Realized I then had to tidy myself up and somehow shower while keeping said curious, must-be-involved-in-everything 18-month-old out of the shower / the ER;
  • While I hurriedly rinsed off, said wee CEO discovered how to get into the china cabinet *and* upended the Pretty Pug's water bowl all over himself and the living room. 
Approximately 1.5 hours later, we scrapped our plans and headed straight to an impromptu mother-son lunch & shopping date. I'm not advocating retail therapy as The Answer Whenever Life Goes Wrong, but some problems can only be solved by french fries - and new (to Master P, at any rate) shoes . . .

His first saddle shoes - praise Neiman Marcus for children's consignment stores, one of the budget ways I keep my little prep in his finery.

3 comments:

ms. mindless said...

He is going to look so precious in those shoes! I remember my saddle shoe days.

Kwana said...

What a morning. Thank goodness for pretty little shoes.

Lindsey said...

Wow mama! Kudos to you for getting out after all that! I would have thrown in the towel and hopped back into my pj's lol

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