Busy Bee

Today I felt like a mom. Oh I've always had this feeling since I discovered I was pregnant. But today, I played a small part into the stereotypical role of being a mother. I woke up this morning to silence. Usually Elliot wakes me up with his squeals of happiness. My phone told me it was 15 minutes after 9AM. Three thoughts suddenly ran through my waking mind: I need to pee really bad, I should go ahead and shower, and clean up like my life depended on it. After the first two were completed, I grabbed my and Elliot's clothes and immediately went to the laundry room. Elliot was running out of clean bibs, and I was running out of clean and non circulation cutting underoos. Once I got that started, I came back upstairs and surveyed the room. How could I let my room turn into a diaster? Oh yeah-I'm a procrastinator. Used wipes everywhere, clothes and bibs covered in dried spit up that were tragically yet intentionally place outside of the hamper, mail left on the floor, and strands of hair pulled out by a 6 month old confettied the room. I decided to take one section of the room at a time. Throwing away things and slightly rearranging the room left me surprised by how much room Elliot has to roll around and hopefully start crawling.

I debated on vaccuuming. I kidnapped what I thought was a good sucker from downstairs a couple of months ago and promised myself I would clean and vaccuum at least once a week (note to self: never promise anything to myself, especially when it comes to cleaning). Usually this one does its job exceptionally, but somehow it won't pick up anything without using the long extender thing. So that makes the job a little harder yet a lot more annoying. I remembered seeing my mom using another one that had been stashed away in the linen closet right next to our room. Up until then, it's been a decorative piece in an extremely small space. I plugged it in with hopes of a fast clean up. This vaccuumed sucked. And I mean that in a bad way. Nothing left the floor. Heartbroken, I stashed it away where it would collect the only thing it was capable of collecting, dust. The first vaccuum secretly rejoices as I plugged it back into the outlet. With this extender, I had to slightly bend my back in pain as the hair and other specs of who knows what left the carpet. A smirk flashed like lightening across my face for sucking it up (ha ha, get it?) and vaccuuming. Who knows when I'll do it again?

I love the smell of a laundry room. The aroma of the detergent fills the room with such brightfulness. You automatically smile when you walk into that room. Same as a kitchen with cookies baking in the oven. I'm lazy when it comes to washing clothes, though. Meaning, mine and Elliot's clothes rarely to never meet fabric softener. The reasoning being is that I have to travel one flight of stairs and maybe 30 steps into the laundry room just to pour in softner which takes 5 seconds to complete, and walk mayber 30 steps to the bottom of the stairs and climb in knee pain back to my room. Hmmm...how selfish of me. There are people in this world who can't even set their feet off of the bed. Still, I don't like to do it. What's worse, is that our washing machine has a thing that you can place the fabric softener before the load is washed, so that when it's time, it'll release the softener. No climbing down one flight of stairs, walking maybe 30 steps just to spend 5 seconds pouring in yet more liquid onto the load and walking back up the one flight of stairs required. Yet, laziness consumes me.

Usually Jeff will call around 10:30 to 11:00AM to see what the day's plans are. I thought I would get the same curtesy call even with Elliot waking up at his house. My phone stayed on all night as a just in case, and since I hadn't recieved a call yet, I still wasn't worried. But I didn't want to call because I figured Elliot might be taking a nap. I waited a little longer so I could put the finishing touches on my limited time clean room. There was no sparkle like you see on tv once a room has been cleaned. Nor was there an 80's montage while cleaning. There was just a sense of relief that I worked my butt off cleaning the room.

I called Jeff to see how the night went, and of course, I recieved a great report. Elliot fell asleep 30 minutes after I left, he had had his first bottle, as well as his first nap. I told Jeff I was going to come over to get him in an hour and come back home in time for Tiffany to come over. (Tiffany by the way is a very nice woman who comes from a program called HANDS. Once a week she comes over and we discuss baby and parenting stuff, like the development of Elliot, what do we expect of him, or how to have time for myself without feeling guilty. At times we do hands on activities. Jeff used to participate, but now he's voluntarily absent because he thinks it's a waste of time, and what Tiffany discusses are topics he and I have already talked about. Well phooey on him. I like the program. Plus after every 10 visits, we get a Walmart gift card.) So Jeff decides that he was to stay home while I met with Tiffany, then I would come back afterwards to pick him up. I didn't see any problem with that.

When I arrived, I saw that my Prince Elliot was already on nap #2. I quietly asked Jeff a couple of things about how the morning went, and after 10 minutes, Elliot stirred around and woke up. He looked at me with that sleepily "Where am I, who are you?" look. I smiled and he smiled. I went to pick him up to hug, kiss, and tell him how much I missed him. Something was rotten in the state of Denmark, because Elliot kept turning his head to Jeff. Those two are thick as thieves, I tell you. But Elliot is a daddy's boy, and I can't do anything but thank God that Elliot has a great father such as Jeff. We pack his things, and off to home we return. Tiffany arrived 15 minutes late, the maxium amount of time that she's late. We discussed what it means to have alone time, like going out to eat with friends, going to a concert, or even just locking myself in the bathroom to take a long bath. Right now is my alone time. Jeff is at home, and Elliot is asleep. After she leaves, I get Jeff, return home where I was just finishing up on drying the clothes. I thought I could have a few minutes to rest, but mommy responsibilities called. I had to wash all of the bottles, and put the now dried clothes back into the hamper to be folded later. At this time I still haven't fixed myself with combing my hair, washing my face, or brushing my teeth. I managed to squeeze in a very small amount of time to eat a Lean Cusine meal before Jeff came over.

Quickly I fixed my hair to look decent for going out with the knowledge that I wasn't going to see anyone I knew. Along with a clean face and brushed teeth, I gathered a smaller diaper bag for Elliot. We left around 4 because Jeff had an appointment. I didn't feel like waiting in the waiting room, so I figured Elliot and I could stay in the car, since it was a nice day and that most likely Elliot would stay asleep in the car. While in the car, I tried to grab a small nap, but Elliot woke up and I gave him his toy. I still didn't want to get out of the car, and Elliot wasn't fussing or crying, so I felt that we were fine where we were. I turned on the radio to 103.5, which is an oldies stations. They were doing a countdown of something, listening to the songs, I couldn't gather the connection. I've heard the song "Louie" by The Stories before, but this was the first time I actually listened to the lyrics. The first lines captured my attention:
            She was black as the night/Louie was whiter  than white/Danger, danger when you taste   brown sugar/Louie fell in love overnight/

After Cher sung about her being half breed, I pulled out my iTouch, and when I pressed the home button, I discovered it was still on the Bible app. The version was the Message, which is the easiest to read version of the Bible, and the book was Ecclesiastes, chapter 9. This is the chapter we are studying in Sunday School, particuarly about wisdom. From the current chapter, I read on to the end. There are only 12 chapters. Jeff was still in the building, so I decided to start from the beginning of the book. If one was not familar with the Best Instructions Before Leaving Earth, and read this version, I could swear they would think they were reading something else. This might be my favorite book of the Bible. Every now and then I looked back to see what Elliot was doing, because he was strangely quiet. Through the mirror we propped in the back seat, I could only see his eyes. He was awake, and I figured he was playing with his toy. I later discovered he was doing something else. More on that in a minute. Jeff came back and mentioned McDonald's. I was shocked since we are now on a diet. But I happily agreed to go. Besides, I still had a Lean Cuisine sitting in my belly, ending its digestion.

We went to a McDonald's we rarely go to because of its small parking lot and difficult accessability to get in and out of. Also, it was right beside a naughty motel for adults, if you know what I mean. Remember when I said Elliot was not playing with his toy in the parking lot, yet doing something else? Well when Jeff went in the back seat to take him out, I saw that one of his socks was gone, and the other was half off. Jeff found the missing sock, yet it was soaking wet. I thought he had shimmied out of the sock, played with it, then spit up on it. But when I smelled it, I noticed the smell of saliva. My son was eating his sock. There was even a wet stain on the back seat where his foot touched. I was confused, yet amused. So the other sock came off as well. I purchased my dinner, without forgetting at least one item with the Monopoly pieces. I didn't instantly win, but my hunger was cured with an Angus burger with bacon (I skipped the cheese). Elliot was grabby grabby with our trays, so I fed him some blueberry puffs from Walmart. Within each puff, he started to grab our trays again. Being next to the naughty adult motel brings some interesting characters to McDonald's. First it was a guy sitting in the very back dressed in army camouflage (not issued by the US Army, by the way) with a laptop singing along with the music played on the restaurant's speakers. It doesn't seem strange, by reading this, but I got a strange vibe from him. Then there was the pencil thin young woman purchasing more food than I imagined her eating alone with 3 brightly tattooed 5 point stars on her neck, a rainbow top with the shoulder designed to be cut off, skinny jeans, and silver high heels. Excuse me to judge, but we figured she worked at the motel. She ate alone, and we guessed that she was either on a lunch break, ending her shift, or was about to begin a shift. Then a couple of what appeared to be homeless gentlemen entered the restaurant. I think I also saw and heard two black guys speaking fluent French. I had to say "black" because I didn't know if they were African Americans or not. Besides, I hate the term African American. I say black. Simple, with one syllable.

After our mildly, yet strange adventure to the home of the Big Mac, we went to Kroger so I could pick up some nursing water and another container of puffs, but with a cherry flavor this time. The ride home was met with wails and cries of a sleepy and hunger baby. Jeff fixed Elliot a bottle with both of our hopes that our son would be knocked out by the end of the last drop of formula. Nope. Still cried and fussed. When Elliot first started on the bottle this time, he chewed on it, so we gave him some baby Tylenol, or whatever it is for infants. After the bottle and during the wails and cries, I decide to fix him some water. He has never had water by itself before, and I was curious to see if he would like it, or better yet, get him to sleep. Whenever he has apple juice, I put it in his sippy cup, but he just ends up chewing on the sprout. Once he started drinking the water, and did not chew on the sprout, I put two and two together. With the apply juice stored in the refrigerator, it's cold and pleasurable on the gums. The water came from door on the outside of the fridge (being this late at night, I can't remember what it's called). And this water was not nearly as cold as the apple juice. Elliot almost finished it, but then he played this weird game where he wanted the water once it was taken away, but acted like he didn't fancy it when he drank it. So I ended up finishing the small amount that was left.

I procratinate folding clothes after they've been washed, but today I didn't want to disappoint my earlier self by re-dirting the room. As I was folding, Elliot continued to cry. Daddy's help was wearing off. It was mommy's turn. I needed to split my attention into two, one being on Elliot as he sat in his Bumbo seat (still fussing), and the other back to folding clothes. After a few minutes, I got up to find hangers naked of clothes, then I saw a small set back to my hard work. Elliot spit up all over a Nike onesie that had just been cleaned. No harm done, it was one of five from a set. Temporarily ruined until the next cycle of laundry, I used the onesie as a wipe, and wiped off his face, legs, and the side of the seat. Elliot continued to fight the Sandman, and Jeff suggested to feed him one more bottle, this time a two ounce. It seemed to do the trick. The Sandman was allowed to do his work. Soon after, I took Jeff back home. At this time, my parents had returned from Wednesday Night Service at church, so it was safe to leave Elliot alone in the room, though not alone in the house.

I won't discuss what Jeff and I talked about on the way to his house. I'll just say it was beyond grotesque. Funny, but disgusting. Yet, that's us. We won't discuss that with other people around, but when you've been with someone for quite a while, you can pretty much talk about anything, no matter how dirty. That's what I love about our relationship. There's a seven year age difference between us, but you would never know it by looking at us. Technically, he should be way more mature for his age, and with mine, I should be settling well into my maturity. But that ride home turned us into 15 year old teenagers. I feel that we are mature at the same level, not I'm overly mature with my age, and he hasn't quite gotten the grasp of maturity with our ages. It's just how we are. And I love that. We've been through hell and perhaps a whole new darker kind of hell within our four year relationship. But we've ventured back. I am more in love with him, which I didn't think was possible, until Elliot was born. He is a terrific father and loving boyfriend. I just wish some people could understand that (I really mean one person in particular, but that is a whole 'nother story). Jeff exits my car, and on the way back, I return to my mommy duties. All of the Elliot's clothes were folded and hung or placed away, and my clothes were folded, but hadn't been placed away. I wanted to wait until Elliot was deep into his sleep since I had to go in and out of the a few times.

The room is back to it's clean position as it was this morning. Detectives Benson, Amaro, Rollins, Tutuola and Munch caught the rapist, and then the local news came on. I can't stand Leno after the whole Tonight Show fiasco, so I turned to Fraiser to kill 30 minutes before the encore of South Park's latest episode came on. Now it's 15 after 1AM, I have no idea how long I've been typing this blog. I really did not expect to tell my entire day. I just wanted to share how I earned my Cleaning Mommy badge and go to sleep. I can't ever tell a short story. It's not in me. But I will not apologize. Elliot keeps shifting in the bed. I think he's telling me to go sleep. Perhaps this is my fight with the Sandman. No crying, just surfing the web. I'll let the Sandman do his job and sprinkle his "Go to sleep" dust. Today was a tiring, yet rewarding day.