A little of this, a little of that ...

I have a few updates, but I thought I would start out with a Wyatt story...

Last night was one of THOSE nights. You know, the ones where you wonder if you are going to have the strength to get through the next day, let alone the next 18 years.

Let me preface this by stating that I promised myself when I started this blog that it was not going to turn into one of those oh-so-corny-my-kids-are-perfect-my-life-is-perfect kind of blog. No offense to those moms out there who just put up the cutsey pictures and talk about how little Johnny read Moby Dick out loud at age two, or that Susie color coordinated her closet before her third birthday - you are not going to find that here. I do love my life, my husband, my job and my child. God has blessed us more than I could ever imagine... but life is not perfect and never will be- and my blog is real life- so you are getting everything. Welcome to the Gumbo :)

OKAY, with that being said, Here's the rundown of how my evening went:

5 p.m. - Pick up Wyatt

5:15- unload, get in the house put Wyatt into highchair for Goldfish appetizer, change clothes and fix Wyatt his dinner of canned chicken, microwavable peas and diced peaches (I worked really hard on this) Then, I get the bright idea to put in my workout DVD while he is eating. I can still keep an eye on him and then my ridiculous white-girl dance moves might keep him entertained enough to stay there, contained in his high chair for the entire 35 minutes, or until Daddy gets home. PERFECT!
5:30- Begin warm-up

5:35- working on my side steps when I hear some slight shrieks coming from the high chair. No big deal, he has finished eating and is singing along with the music.

5:40- shrieks continue to get louder- I look over and his entire meal that I thought he had eaten is now all over the floor, the walls and the dog, along with the entire contents of the sugar bowl. Awesome. Can't stop now... heart rate through the roof... in the middle of my boosted walk...

5:45- Full out wailing has ensued- it's obvious the child is no longer interested in his high chair. I probably wouldn't be either if I was swimming in peas. I am sweating like a pig, but I make my way over to get him out while jogging in place. I am loving the fact that I am wading through sugar.

5:55 - I give up and forget about intervals after Wyatt destroys the living room knocking everything down within reach so that he can say his new favorite word: "uh oh!" After about uh oh #436, I decide to throw in the towel on getting some exercise... good thing to, because he did something in his pants that smells just like roses- ha.

5:57- Conveniently, Dad still hasn't made it home, so I have accepted the fact that I am going to ave to change a horrific diaper. Wyatt is kicking and screaming and throwing himself all over the changing table. He absolutely.hates.having.his.diaper.changed. I narrowly miss a biohazard emergency, and we head straight for the tub.

6:05- My toddler who is in such a great mood by this point is splashing and kicking and pouring cupfuls of water out of the tub. I am so exhausted that I give up on the bath as well and opt for attempting to dry him and re-diaper. The question of the evening, WHERE IN THE HECK IS YOUR FATHER? escaped me several times throughout this whole escapade.

6:09- Mark walks in to witness a naked child, diaperless, with a sweaty, frantic wife chasing him around the house armed with a Pampers disposable.

And who said taking care of a toddler was easy? Oh yes- no one. Because if one did say that- they would be certifiable.