Friday, February 24, 2006

The day from hell

There are a couple of things I wanted to write about, and I just remembered both now. I am not sure if I'll write both down tonight or not, so I thought I would start with my day from hell, which was actually last week Friday. I had blocked it out of my memory, but then a few things happened today to vividly remind me of the day and my failures as a mama.

So, yeah, last Friday. Let me give you a little idea of how the week went leading up to that day. On Mondays and Tuesdays Matt works earlier in the day and gets home at about 2:38, which leaves me enough time to say hi, grab my stuff, and run out the door to get to work myself. I work until 9:00. These two days, we see very little of each other. This particular week, Matt had work functions the second half of his work week, so on Wednesday we were supposed to meet him and his co-workers out for dinner, but then they changed the time at the last minute so it was far too late for Iris and I to go out with them. I was really looking forward to a night out, without cooking, but alas it wasn't meant to be. Matt was gone from 8:00 am until 10:00 pm. The same with Thursday. My respite on the days I am home all day with Iris is that he is dying to spend time with her when he gets home at the end of the day, and also does her bedtime routine every night. I didn't get a break until she went to bed, and by that point I was EXHAUSTED! Then Friday comes. Our dog, Lily, had been scratching up a storm for the last few days, and upon further investigation, had tons of scabs and raw spots all over her body. On Wednesday Iris and I gave her a bath and flea and tick stuff (just in case). On Thursday I decided to clip her hair down so that I could get a closer look at her skin (which is when I saw all the spots). Grooming Lily is a serious pain in the ass normally, but I tried to do it at my wit's end, with Iris running around the kitchen and therefor spreading hair all over the house. Grrrr. Okay, so on Friday I decide to make a vet's appointment for the dog. I also decide that she looks so darn godforsaken that I better finish the grooming I started, but only ended up making an even bigger mess, and Lily still looked terrible. Much yelling ensued and there was hair everywhere.

SIDE NOTE: for anyone who thinks I purposely named my child and dog after flowers, please let me explain. Lily was my mother's dog and is almost ten years old. My mom named her. I have always loved the name Iris (and actually don't think of it as a flower name) and knew that when I had a daughter, that would be her name. There was no planning or purposeful matchy-matchy thing going on, although I do feel like and idiot every time I tell people both of their names in the same sentence.

Okay, back to the story. So, Iris and I load the dog in to the car to bring to the vet. We get there, no one else was in the office, it was pretty smooth getting in. Then we are sitting in the tiny exam room waiting for the doctor. Lily has the worst dog breath of all time. Seriously. It might have something to do with her fondness for eating cat shit, but who knows, right? So, Lily is stinking up the room, scratching like mad, and Iris is trying to drink the bleach bottle that is strategically placed right at toddler eye level, and is trying to stick her hand in the garbage can. The room obviously wasn't built for mom's and their children. I barely hear a word the vet has to say, as Iris is on the verge of a hissy fit the whole time we're there. At one point the vet takes Lily out to weight her, etc etc (turns out I'm a terrible dog owner, as she has gained 20% of her body weight in TWO years! Ugh!) Finally, he came back, and we were ready to check out. At this point the waiting room is filled with people, I am trying to pay and figure out what the vet is trying to swindle me in to buying, Lily is trying to attack an already terrified kitty who is shivering in the corner of a kennel, and Iris is just off, well, pretty much trying to figure out how to destroy the whole office. Of course every person in there is watching this little scene unfold, no one offers to lend a hand (okay, I probably wouldn't have taken anyone up on it, anyways) and I leave with over $100 on my credit card, three bottles of meds, and the dog undiagnosed itching problem. After the vet I decide to stop and get tacos for Iris and I, since we went straight to the vet's after she woke up from her nap, and usually we eat lunch right away. So, we are waiting for our tacos to be made, and I am drinking a diet coke and trying to get Iris to drink some water. She takes one look at my drink and yells "dink!" over and over, so I am like, fine, have a sip, thinking she is going to hate all the carbonation. WRONG. She LOVES it, and continues to slurp down half the cup. Okay, so in case you're not following, at this point I'm a pregnant mama sharing a diet coke with toddler. It's not looking good. Luckily she forgets about it long enough to get in the car and start the ride home. I decide to call my mom on the way to update her on the dog's condition. When we get home we start walking up the stairs to our apartment, and Iris sees the soda in my hand, and starts screaming for some. I am on the phone with my mom, so of course, instead of hanging up with her, I hand Iris the diet coke to keep her from screaming. As soon as I end my conversation I realize that I need to get the soda back, but Iris isn't having it. A short struggle ensues, I get the soda back and Iris crumbles in to a screaming mess in the corner of the living room. I am so exhausted (and queasy from lack of food) by this point, I had to sit down to eat my taco while speaking softly to Iris trying to coax her down from her tantrum. She wants nothing to do with it, and screams uncontrollably for a good 15 minutes or so. Obviously, at this point I should have been all over her trying to fix things (and this time NOT with a diet coke!) but I was just so freakin' exhausted, I couldn't even think straight. I finally remember that she stops crying if I sing to her (you know, like torturing her out of it) and so we sit down to sing Baby Beluga and she stops crying. There is snot and tears, she's a mess. Finally she sits down and eats her taco, and all is well with the world. Except for the dog, who is still itching wildly. Ugh.

So, that was my day, I won major mama of the year points.