Wow, into the three digit days. I feel like we've overcome the first hurdle. Adam is calling a lot more, and he sounds happier. It truly makes me happier when I hear from him. Even if it's just for five minutes. It's really difficult to admit that, especially because I am in super strong tough girl mommy mode; but I am really a much happier super strong tough girl mommy when daddy calls. Taylor now talks to him a lot, telling him about how she found her "shadow" and "morning" and "hi daddy!" It's adorable; and I know it means a lot to him. I don't know if she'll recognize his face, or scent when he comes home; but I know it will be a matter of minutes or hours before they are both head over heels for each other. Today, the ravens won. A plus. The little gym was great, as it always is. Since Delmo has started working, just Sabrina and I go. It's nice to have girl time. We mused today about how cute Adam will be in the class when he's here with Taylor. There are lots of dads that go, too; so it won't be awkward. I truly enjoy the classes, especially when she brings the skills home. She'll try to do a front roll and bend over and look like she's going to break her neck. I also enjoy when she talks in class. Whenever the instructor says it's time to put things away, and says "All done.", Taylor runs over and starts throwing things into whatever receptacle they belong while screaming "all done! all done! all done!" Sabrina and I joke now that she is the clean up nazi. It's hilarious. I don't usually notice, but Sabrina always points out that the other parents are jealous that Taylor talks so much. She must know fifty words. I'm sure that the entire vocabulary isn't in regular circulation; but they've been said and will be again. Today, she also had her fifteen month shots and check up. Sabrina hadn't seen the shots done before, so it was a touch traumatic for her how they jammed the long needles deep into the muscles of poor Taylor's thighs. She was a trooper, though, and recovered quickly.
Today, also, I set myself up for total failure tomorrow morning. On a given night, I try to get everything set up for the morning. Clothes out for me, coffee set up, outfit picked out for Taylor, diaper bag and purse packed with all adequate supplies. Tonight, however...epic fail.
I came home from the Delmos house, at 9ish, only to realize that I had ONE diaper in the entire house. One. That meant that Taylor had a diaper to sleep in; but that when she wakes up tomorrow and said diaper is full of three pounds of urine....no more diapers. Hmmm. I can't leave and go get some. I can't bundle her up and go. It's after nine and pouring freezing rain.
The wheels started turning and voila!
When I had Taylor, there was a lot of residual bleeding. About six weeks of it. So I had some left over ginormous super duper absorbent (with wings) maxis. My plan is to take a pair of my old panties, attach a pad and rubber band the panties on the sides so that they fit. We'll see if my ingenuity pays off. Honestly, though, I am slightly mortified. What kind of mother runs out of diapers? To this, I say. A real one. An imperfect one. One who can laugh about the fact that she has, once again, forgotten something on the to-do list. I think that's the trick, though. The trick is to laugh. Otherwise, I'd be miserable trying to be super strong tough girl mommy.
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