8:15 . . . I'm up, dressed, make-up on, jewelry on (matching my sweater perfectly, of course!) hair done, shoes on - ready to get the kids up - we HAVE to be in the car by 8:45 to be on time today.
8:20 . . . I get the boys up (I let them sleep in thinking we would have more than enough time)
8:25 . . . Peter is now getting his clothes on, that I laid out for him. I'm getting stuff ready for James' diaper change and his clothes for the day.
8:26 . . . I notice a 'spot' on James' PJ shirt, right above his pants line.
8:26 and 30 seconds . . . I'm now noticing that James has a total blowout . . .
Let me specify this one - for all of you moms out there - you all have had one of these!
When I say 'blowout' - I mean, all the way up his back. . almost touching his neck. There was not a thing in the front of his diaper . . .so if you didn't smell it, you wouldn't have known it. At this point - I thought it would be pointless to continue to lift his legs and wipe him from front to back, because I would literally have to lift him so high, he would've done a somersault - . . so, what do we all do?? We strip them down to their nudee-kazudee, of course! - and clean them back to front in the standing position. Thinking this would be the best way, and not taking into consideration that he had just woken up and was still a little 'out of it' . . . .
8:28 . . . I strip him, wrapping his poopy clothes up in a ball as I'm rolling in over his head, making sure that not an inch of him is touched by the poo. Being successful, I am now grabbing a bunch of wipes to prepare for, what Tim calls, the 'Wipe Bath' . . .
8:30 . . . James sits on me!!!
. . . .
. . . .
8:35 . . . I get redressed. I redo my hair. I change my earrings, necklace and bracelets to match my new sweater - which now doesn't match my pants. I change my pants. I change my socks. I throw all of my clothes in the hamper. I sigh.
8:45 . . . I grab something from the kitchen, throw them into snack bags, I grab a sippy cup and put some milk into it . . . throw some coats on the kids . . . grab a toy or two for them to play with get into the car . . .
9:00 . . . we leave.
Good News - we got there on time - I don't know how . . .
Now, remind me again . . . aren't blowouts intended to make the kids a mess?!?!?