Month 5: Had a Bad Day

You know how magazines are always featuring these successful working moms who effortlessly balance their careers and families? Of course their lives aren’t as perfect as the articles make them out to be, but I wonder if those moms ever have days like the one I had the other week.

I decided I was ready to start working again. Not full time, just enough to earn a little bit of money on the side. Since I’m a freelance writer who works from home, I figured this would be pretty doable. Especially since I’ve hired a babysitter two afternoons a week.

So I accepted a couple of short assignments. Then I set up a meeting, asked the babysitter to come a little early that day, ironed some non-drawstring pants, and (gasp!) blow-dried my hair. I waited until the last possible minute to put on my white shirt. (I’ve learned a thing or two by now about the digestive habits of babies.)

That was the day the babysitter’s bus was running behind schedule, for the first time ever. When she finally arrived, I tossed the baby into her arms and dashed out the door. In the car, I immediately noticed a foul smell. Was that … ? Could it be … ? Noooo … Did I accidentally drop a dirty diaper into my purse?

As the car filled with a horrible odor, I looked down at my shoe and saw that I had stepped in a disgusting deposit left in our yard by the neighbor’s dog. Not just a little bit, either. A huge, gooey gob stuck to my shoe and, by now, ground into the floor mat. I pulled over and, while cursing like a sailor, attempted to scrape the crap off my shoe with an old napkin I found in the glove compartment. Wouldn’t you know it, the baby wipes and Purell I’ve been carting around for months were conveniently packed in my diaper bag – at home. The more I tried to clean up the mess, the worse it got, and the worse it smelled. I cried. I cursed some more.

And then – what else could I do? – I called and cancelled my meeting. Then I cried some more and felt very sorry for myself. How had I ever thought I could do this working mom thing? Who was I kidding? After that I drove to the mall and bought myself a new pair of shoes. I figured I deserved them.

While Dog Poop Day ranks right up there, it may not actually be the worst day I’ve had since I became a mother.

Other bad days include:
The time our basement flooded (again!) and C. accidentally unplugged the freezer to plug in the Shop-Vac and ruined my whole stash of frozen breastmilk.

The Sunday we finally managed to get ourselves to church on time and then Miles had a diaper blowout minutes into the service and I hadn’t packed another outfit since we were only going to be away from home for approximately an hour.

The day (OK, today) that I left the cap off the baby’s vitamin drops – a sticky, dark-brown, foul-smelling liquid – and spilled half the bottle all over the beige carpet in the family room.

But you know what? Moms aren’t the only ones who have bad days. Babies have them, too. I don’t know why that surprises me. Maybe because I figure that without checking accounts or stretch marks, they have nothing to stress about.

But some days, for no apparent reason, Miles is in a bad mood. Even if he’s had his nap, just been fed, and not wearing a shirt with a scratchy tag. Inevitably, that will be the day I decide to take him to the gym and they page me three times during my 20-minute Stairmaster session: “Will Miles’ mom please report to childcare.” Then the next day, same scenario, only he’ll be shrieking with glee and grinning like a maniac.

Could I learn something from my little munchkin about accepting that there will be bad days and that every tomorrow is a new chance for a better one? One thing’s for sure: being covered in poop never seems to ruin his day.