And a Bad Morning, to you, too!

7:30 a.m.  

Look at clock and marvel that everyone has slept in. 

Note that this is not especially good because Riley should be at school by 9 a.m, and it takes us at least 90 minutes to leave.  

Go back to sleep because still off work.  Decide he'll get there whenever.

7:35 a.m.  

Get up, get dressed and go to bathroom.  

7:40 a.m.

Emerge from bathroom to hear J say, "He's soaking wet." 

Panic.  

Certain that he removed his jammies, sometime during the night, begin scoldterrogating son.  

Replay the events of last night.  Realize that zealous to put on his Spider Man pjs, Riley dressed himself for bed.  We skipped bath.  Equally zealous to have Mommy time, I insisted that Riley have privacy – meaning “I’m outta here” while he went to the bathroom before bed.  His overnight diaper was never put on.   

Confess. 

Listen to J declare, "So, it's not his fault." (subtext, "It is all your fault, woman.")  

Try to blameshift.  Futile.  Feel like a moron among morons. 

7:45 a.m.

Strip Riley down.  Intend to give him a mere wipe-down until a whiff of his skin is caught.  As he smells like he has been brined in urine, plunk him in the bathtub.  Inform him that this is just a rinse. 

7:50 a.m.

Go to Riley's room to assess damage.  Sheet, mattress pad, towel and mattress are soaked.  

Consider throwing mattress out window.  

Curse self and ancestors for not having bought a waterproof mattress pad, even though night training has not yet begun. 

Begin doing laundry.  

8 a.m.

Get Aria up and give her her breakfast.  Scurry like a deranged butler back and forth between kitchen and master bathroom.  Attempt to remove from tub a boy who is now lounging like a spa visitor.  Insist he has five more minutes.

8:15 a.m.

Riley dressed and eating.  Aria finishing up.  Mom dressed.  Have a glimmer of hope that we might not be pathologically late.

8:25 a.m. 

Begin the final push to leave.  

Peform the hairdresser on the run act as chase Aria all over the house to tame her curls and prevent her from looking like Jimi Hendrix.  

Brush both kids teeth.  

Have hopes dashed once again that Riley will put on his own shoes and coat. 

Argue with 19 month old about which coat and shoes she will wear and wonder if when she is 16 she will charge thousands of dollars worth of clothes at Neiman’s and bankrupt me.  

Try to find own keys, gloves, phone, hat. 

Make sure everyone has everything.  Fantasize about staying home, turning on the TV and doing a laissez-faire parenting experiment.

9:00 am.  

Leave house.  Get in car.

9:10 a.m. 

Drop off Riley.  

Chat outside with another mother from Riley's class.  Tell the pee-pee story.  When she asks hopefully if he woke up dry, as her son has a few times, internally beat breast and curse self and ancestors once again.  

Discuss pee-soaked mattress strategy.  Resolve to get to CVS to buy Febreze posthaste!

9:30 a.m. 

Scan the CVS home deodorizer section.  

Remember reading somewhere that Febreze had killed cats.  

Have a vision of poor son asphyxiating, breathing in mother-infused toxic chemicals in his bed.  Decide to scan the Internet for something homemade.

9:35 a.m.

Get back in car.  Install Aria completely in her carseat before realizing that should go to produce market. 

Vacillate between going all the way to Trader Joe's and staying local.  Deem it too nice a morning to be spent driving and shopping.  

Uninstall daughter and go to produce market.

9:45 a.m. 

Go to cashier to pay for five items.  

Realize do not have wallet!  

Restrain self from throwing self to floor and having a tantrum that would make Supernanny change careers. 

Have ah-hah moment!  

Ask cashier if she can ring in credit card manually because have it memorized.  Internet shopping has paid off! Pat self on back. 

Wax philosophical on how don’t know BFF’s digits, but know credit card number and expiration date. 

10:30 a.m.

Groceries unpacked, and mattress baking-sodaed go across the street to Butternut to meet friends and play on an unseasonably warm January day in Chicago.  

Smile again.