A wink and a smile

If you're a mom, then you're probably somewhat familiar with the kind of day I'm about to describe. And if you're not familiar, then tell me you're secret NOW please.

It all started this morning when I was trying to exercise in peace. That was my first mistake, right? Because it doesn't matter if I'm working out at 5 a.m. (the usual) or 5 p.m., that's when everyone is going to need something. And if I send the kids to the gym daycare when I go there, well that's when everyone poops. The gym daycare workers don't change diapers or escort the older kids to the bathroom, so that means mom gets paged on the loudspeaker. I'm always reminded of Mr. Mom at those moments: "Herb, we weren't even in aisle four!"

After the morning drinks were poured, and I finished an angry workout--completely missing all the benefits of stress relief--it was time to cook breakfast for the kids. I made oatmeal pancakes for Cienna and Ty, but they only ate them after what felt like 10 minutes of choosing their favorite plates. And while my rational self was encouraging them with words of joy about Spiderman and Hannah Montana, my inner bitch was fantasizing about throwing every plate in the cupboard across the room and making the secret celebrity and secret superhero simply secrets. Forever.

Of course Ty was a syrup mess. It was as though he climbed into a bad George Michael video, and no amount of baby wipes could stand up to the challenge of cleaning my toddler. So it was time for a bath. Except that Dimitri wouldn't hear of tummy time or swing time or stare-at-something-colorful time. He simply wanted mommy time. So I wore Dimitri while I bathed Ty, and of course I ended up soaking wet in the process.

While I was trying to clean up myself and the bathroom, I knocked down one of the nets of bath toys and couldn't help but feel the universe was against me. At that point, my son was running between the bathroom and his bedroom, getting the hardwood in the hallway nice and slippery. Sure enough, Cienna came running out of her room and faceplanted right in front of me. Even though she was fine, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to try and snipe a Princess band-aid.

She was healed and Ty was clothed, but then Dimitri needed a diaper change. And in true Woodall fashion, nobody poops alone. Ty wasn't about to be outdone this morning. So he made his way to the potty after several minutes of me reminding him why the potty is better than pull-ups. He sat on the talking, singing potty, clapping and pooping. You can guess who taught him to celebrate a bowel movement with such gusto. And by the time I did the wiping and washing, I was already tired of poop by 9 a.m.

Dimitri was ready for his morning nap by that point, and Cienna was getting dressed. We were going to a meeting later that morning, and I informed her that she shouldn't wear her short-sleeved high school musical shirt. It was kind of dirty and not warm enough. I made other similar suggestions, and the result was a 5 year old stomping up the stairs informing me that I had ruined her life.

After I asked her to come back down and apologize for stomping and speaking to me that way, I called my mom and cried. "Cienna said I ruined her life because of a t-shirt," I said. "Just wait," Miss Linda said. "You have a lot more of that to come." "I didn't know my precious daughter could be full of so much attitude. What did I do wrong? It's like I'm raising Cher. Or at least her gay fanbase," I said.

I was en route to the shower when Larry called for the morning dish. Still couldn't tell you what he said. I was too busy being distracted by Ty who was driving his cars all over me and everything around me--but mostly me. "OK, honey, sounds awesome. I'm off to the shower. I'll call you later." "What's awesome?" "Um, I have no idea. I'll call you later."

While I may have had high hopes for 15 minutes of Aveeno stress relief in the shower, they were quickly dashed by "Tyler Joseph and Cienna Faye! Please STOP jumping on the bed! I swear you are never allowed to have Easter candy again!"

Then the guilt set in. Did I let them eat too much Easter candy? Am I a terrible mom? Did I let them have so much sugar that they will have Type 2 diabetes by lunch? Am I a terrible mom? And what about Dimitri? I haven't even really read to him today. I haven't even really talked to him today. And Cienna and Ty...did we do anything together besides eat and then get baths? Ugh. I'm the worst mom ever today. And I've yelled at them like eight times. And I have no idea what my husband said to me. I should've had a better conversation with him. It will have to wait until we see each other later. Maybe if I just squirt this Aveeno right into my nose I'll feel relieved? Bad idea. I would need a year's supply. At least. Did the bag of toys fall down again? It's staying down this time.

And as I steeped out of the shower, hoping for enough calm to dry my hair, Ty and Cienna began arguing over the same crayon. "Really? You're not going to share today? All manners and values are just ignorned today? Really?" So of course their arguing woke up Dimitri.

At that point, I just gave up and gave in. The most I could hope for was to get out of my robe before we had to leave the house.

I laid down on our bed--that was actually, surprisingly made--and picked up Dimitri from his Boppy. "What am I going to do today, Dimmers?" And he just started to coo and gave me the biggest smile ever. Just like that, I found my stress relief. I smiled back at him and played with him a little bit, and he kept cooing and smiling--with the dimples his momma gave him--and I realized I'd go through the whole morning all over again for the rest of my life as long as I could have perfect moments like that.

Naturally that was abbreviated by my Ty man who walked in and announced, "Poot. Poot. Potty? Potty? Poooooot!"

"Again, Ty? Really? You DEFINITELY have your father's digestive tract! OK. Let's go, buddy!"

And the toilet sang again. La Boheme it is not.

Somehow, SOMEHOW, we made it out of the house, clothed and appropriate. We were on our way to the meeting, Rupert Holmes' "The Escape Song (If you like Pina Colada)" came on the radio. I thought of my friend Joe, who is Cienna's Godfather. So we then talked about Uncle Joe and Aunt Helen from L.A., which was like Aveeno too. In case you're not aware, Joe is nature's prozac.

By the time we got to our meeting, Ty had taken both shoes and socks off, as per usual, Cienna's hair was a mess, and I again declared the double stroller cannot be opened with one hand as advertised.

The baby slept through the meeting, and Cienna and Ty were perfect angels. All quiet before the storm?

We got back to the car, and I realized Dimitri had pooped. So I took him out of his seat to change him on another seat, which of course did not make him happy. But I got him back in his car seat and calmed him down and thought all was well. However, I caught my jacket in the van door and lost my balance. I wanted to just lay down on the ground and take a nap--even if it was for 10 minutes.

As I drove us home--in perfect silence as the trifecta napped--I compared mothering to a full-time job. In a full-time job there are built in breaks and lunches most of the time. In mothering, there are no breaks. And sometimes my lunch is whatever the kids don't finish. And did I forget to put the clothes in the dryer? Yes I did.

Life 1, Mom 0.

When we got home it was time to cook lunch. The kids requested their favorite soup, and I was out of celery. "It's OK, Mom. We all make mistakes sometimes," Cienna said. "Thanks, Ci." But, thankfully, they ate it without complaint. Was the day rounding the good bend?

Yes.

And then it was almost time for Larry to be home. I was a combination of a loyal dog waiting by the door and a child waiting for Santa. That's how excited I was to see him. The calvary. The break.

"I'm home! What do you want to do?" he said.

"Sleep. I just want to sleep. I don't want to eat dinner. I just want to sleep before I have to work," I said.

And I got a beautiful hour of sleep before I had to go to work. On my way out of the door, I promised the kids that we would do something fun tomorrow! And on Thursday we will do something even more fun because it's going to be nice outside!

And I assured my husband that I would be looking forward to the hours we'd have alone once I got home. He gave me a wink (or maybe it was a twitch) and told me to call him later.

I'm going with wink.