Posted on | May 3, 2010 | 14 Comments
I’m not normally the biggest fan of returning home after trips. The drive to do something fun always seems easier than the drive to return to status quo. But this time? Pulling into my driveway made me want to burst into the Hallelujah Chorus. And that’s not to say I didn’t have a wonderful trip… but travel with babies is different.
Even J woke up this morning, looked to the left, looked to the right, and squealed happily. We’re all glad to be back to our regular routine. Well, mostly regular. There is, of course, the fact that Momma can’t walk.
Yeah. You heard that right. In the words of one of the partners at my firm, I’m all “stove up.” Which I think is Southern for bent over in an odd position and moving slowly. Not sure, but that seems right. Last week my back started hurting and I went to the OB because, well, he’s my favorite doctor. He tested and found a UTI so we treated that. My back got momentarily better and then? Much, much worse. It now hurts when I sit. It hurts when I stand. It hurts when I lay down. And most importantly? It hurts when I pick up my over 20 pound son.
*sigh* I wish this thing showed time lapse. I got finished with that first bit about being glad to be home and halfway into a description of my back drama when J started to smell. Bad. So I hobbled the two of us back to the nursery to change his diaper. (Important sidenote: If you saw my Twitter Home Tour, you may remember that the Master Bedroom is directly across from the nursery. Also, this morning, that bedroom door was open. Now back to the story.)
I can’t stand long enough to use the changing table so I opted to sit on the bed and change him there. I laid him on the bed and he immediately began SCREAMING. Loudly. Really loudly. So loudly that (see above) there is no way Husband didn’t hear him. Husband knows I am a)exhausted from my “vacation” and b) “stove up” as mentioned above. Husband does not come to my assistance. Then, when I remove J’s diaper, J proceeds to poop. all. over. the. bed. And it looks like the chili they serve at Yum Yum’s hot dogs in Greensboro. There is now poop on me and on the bed. And oh yeah, all over J. Cue my back spasming violently. Still no Husband. Has he gone deaf over night? I am literally yelling about my back and the poop and J is still screaming. He must have gone deaf over night, right?
I get J’s diaper changed but now have to get the sheets off the bed. I take J into the Master Bedroom. Husband is inexplicably awake… and seems pissed off. Really, Husband? Really? Because I thought that J and I have been gone since Tuesday night and maybe, just maybe, he might have had a BREAK FROM BABY UNLIKE HIS WIFE. I may kill him. I’m not saying it’s a definite, but plans are in the works. (I kid.)
What was that I said about being glad to be home? As I sit here, now, covered in poop juice, with snot on my pajama pants, an angry Husband who doesn’t want to be awake an hour and a half after his wife, and a baby who is repeatedly blowing raspberries in between gulps of breast milk? What did I say? Oh alright fine. It’s still good to be home.