What A Day!

Holy cow!  It's been one of those long, crazy days - you know the kind that you're just grateful to have survived.  Let me see if I can recap this eventful little day for you.  Hmm... it was a pretty tame, usual day until right about lunch.  I played with the kids, bathed and dressed them, put Preston down for a nap, read books with Dylan and then let him have a movie on while Preston finished his nap.  Marcos decided he would come home around lunch time so we could buy Dylan some chin guards and maybe cleats for soccer.  He wanted to be a part of the whole soccer-buying process.  While Dylan was watching his movie, I was doing food storage calculations on my little notepad.  Don't ask.  I get on these crazy kicks.  One of the ladies in the ward who is in charge of food storage was supposed to come talk to me about it and I never called her back last week (not on purpose...I just didn't get around to it).  Anyway, she sent a binder of info home with Marcos yesterday.  I was feeling guilty for not calling her and wanted to know what it said so I started reading the material and got WAY into meal planning and calculating all of our yearly needs.  It's kind of overwhelming.  Sorry, back to the story.  So I was planning breakfasts and talking about oatmeal and pancakes and Dylan decides he wants pancakes for lunch.  Oh wait, no he wants waffles.  Then he reminds me he wants waffles like his great grandma makes.  He still remembers Grandma's waffles from our last St. George trip.  That kid has an impeccable memory.  

I don't even know where to put the paragraphs in this never-ending day so here's a new one just to break up the story a little bit.  I go up to the kitchen and start making waffles.  Marcos gets home and the two of them eat while I finish cooking.  Preston wakes up and Marcos decides we don't have time to feed him so I bring his waffle with me in the car and try to reach back to give him little bites.  He was happy about it so no big deal.  We decide against Bountiful and settle for the mall.  Dylan asked me to carry him in the mall and I told him that he was big enough to walk (it seems insignificant now, but it's not).  We go into the sports store and look for cleats, but the smallest size they have is a 13 and Dylan is an 11-ish right now.  I figured a 12 was pushing it.  We did find some chin guards though so we went to purchase those only to find out that one of the sleeves was missing.  Ah, man.  The lady goes to find another pair and Preston decides it's time to do his business.  Of course we hadn't brought anything with us so I send Marcos to the car for the changing pad, a diaper and wipes.  Marcos gets back with the gear and I head to the bathroom to change a diaper while Marcos and Dylan go looking at other shoe stores for cleats.  What a disaster!  It was one of those disgusting blow-out diapers where poop is just everywhere.  Gag!  I begin shedding clothes, wiping, cleaning... you get the picture.  It was horrible.  Poop on his clothes, his body, the stroller.  I had no choice, but to wrap up his clothes in the changing pad (that thing is awesome by the way) and put my baby back in the semi-poopy, super-smelly stroller with a diaper, socks and tennis shoes on.  Yep, I was the ghetto mom you see at the mall and wonder how her kids survive.  The crazy mom who brings a baby to the mall in nothing but a diaper.  

We made our way home and I cleaned Preston up properly.  Then I pulled out the stroller, got out my cleaning supplies and started scrubbing.  I don't know how you're supposed to clean the cloth on an umbrella stroller, but if all my cleaning products bleach out the fabric, so be it.  I needed to feel I had properly sanitized everything.  In the meantime, Marcos has looked up the name of a soccer store in Clearfield and sends me to go buy cleats because he's got to get back to work.  He gives me directions and takes off.  I reload the kids and set off on my way.  I should have enough time to buy cleats, get the kids a snack, change Dylan into his uniform (he insists on wearing a uniform to his practice - just ask Marcos who dealt with his ridiculous meltdown Tuesday) and get to soccer practice.  Okay, we can do this.  I follow Marcos' directions and get nowhere.  Dylan, sensing my anxiety, starts freaking out and yelling something about being lost and are we going to find our way home.  Hello, we're not THAT lost.  I retrace my steps and try again, but nope, there's no soccer place anywhere in the area.  I called him, but he was in a visit so I tried to think of a backup plan while I waited.  I even called my sister to see if she could look it up.  I was pretty sure he said the store started with a P.  Nope, I didn't have a name or an address, just weird directions.  My sister didn't answer though.  I called to tell Marcos I needed help getting there and left the message on his machine (or so I thought).  It turns out I actually left the message on my sister's voicemail.  Man, I must have had a really bad day.  I couldn't even concentrate on who I was calling or talking to.  Duh!  

I finally decided I needed a plan B.  What time is it?  3:40.  So half-priced slush for happy hour at Sonic it is.  Wa-hoo!  Just as I pull out of Sonic, Marcos calls back to ask if I have cleats yet.  Of course he didn't get my message so he has no clue I'm lost.  He gives me better directions, I meet him there and we buy some fabulous cleats and a ball.  I head back home to get the kids a quick snack, dress Dylan and get up to the park.  Dylan is having some sort of a fit and I am worried now that this is all about attention and we're going to have a pretty crazy season of soccer (or decide not to do it at all).  It was pretty obvious that he wanted to go to soccer, buthe was so nervous.  He started crying and told me he couldn't run at futbol (soccer) and told me he'd be fine if he just walked.  Everything was just too weird.  Finally he told me it hurt too bad to run so I took a look at his foot.  It looked a little red on one part, but not too bad.  I told him to try again.  He was obviously hurting so I gave in.  We're not going to make it to the practice so just get over it.  Let's figure out what's going on here.  I call the doctor to try to get an appointment and Marcos walks in.  He's supposed to go to an event where his mom will be receiving an award right after work.  Preston is crying and having a hard day, Dylan's going to need my attention at the doctor's office, especially if we need x-rays.  How am I going to do this alone?  We finally decided Marcos would have to stay with Preston while I took Dylan.  There's another activity we missed today.  

I took Dylan to the doctor and he couldn't figure out what it was.  The x-ray looked fine, it doesn't look like he stepped on anything...  We're supposed to wait and come back in three days if it's not getting better.  Now I have to take Dylan to the toy store to fulfill my end of the bribe.  I know, I'm a horrible mom in more ways than one.  Whatever.  He thought the doctor was going to cut his foot off so I explained that he wasn't going to and that if he was nice and brave, he could choose a toy.  Trust me, it was worth it.  The kid can be feisty and when he was nervous and ready to growl through his teeth, I watched him fold his arms and force a smile, clearly showing me he was being a good little boy.  He even sat by himself during the x-rays, which was amazing.  I thought for sure I'd have to restrain him a little.  We stopped at Toys R Us and he took FOREVER trying to decide what to buy.  I had him in a cart since he couldn't walk and carrying him around the whole time didn't sound like a great idea.  He found the dinosaur he wanted and good news, it was on sale.  We made the purchase and headed home.  By this point, we've also missed the stake activity I wanted to attend.  Oh well, just one of those days. 

I called home to check on Marcos and Preston was screaming.  I thought he was hungry and told Marcos to feed him dinner.  That didn't do it either, but when we came home he seemed to chill so I think he was just missing us.  He's never sure what to do without Dylan around for too long.  Brotherly bond or something.  Dylan ate some dinner and then wanted me to read to him over and over.  He likes books, but this was weird.  He was just clingy and quiet.  Not knowing what to do, I just gave him the attention he needed.  Preston was content to destroy my entire home while I helped his brother.  He pulled all the folded laundry I left in the hall this morning out of the basket and flung each item down the stairs (I couldn't put it away because he was asleep in his bedroom at the time), he tipped over the piano bench and then pushed it around like a toy, he dumped several totes worth of toys all over...  He's like a walking tornado!  I figured it could wait until bedtime when I could think about cleaning again.  Dylan started playing dinosaurs on the ground and was crawling around.  Next thing you know, he's holding one arm up in the air and says his wrist hurts.  Sure enough, his wrist now looks a lot like his foot and is super sensitive to the touch.  Man!  I called the doctor's office back and waited for a call.  I finally got a call from them.  They said, if he gets a fever to take him to the ER for blood work.  If not, give him motrin and follow up in the morning.  Holy cow!  I'm sure he'll be fine, but I am quite concerned.  Whatever it is seems to be getting worse and I don't know how to help him.  So now it's after 10 and I'm exhausted!  Let's hope tomorrow is a little less chaotic.