The List

What a week.  It started out strong with me wholeheartedly trying to ignore the ides of March curse and find joy in the non-joyous.  Then it all went to hell.  Maybe it was my double conjunctivitis, sinus infection, or hacking cough, but somewhere between the goopy eyes, green boogers (mine and EJ's) and pharmacy runs in sub-freezing weather, I seemed to have lost my zen buddha attitude from last week.  Being the masochist that I am, I even added "read some books on how to make yourself more zen buddha," to the mile-long list of things I had to get done over the weekend.

To preface this post, I need to briefly describe my lists.  They are always handwritten on random scraps of paper (take that, i-Phone "notes!"), they are long, and most of the things can't reasonably be accomplished (i.e. get a passport on a Sunday or grow my hair three inches).  I'm also a really good procrastinator, so I have no idea why I list-make and torture myself.

Anyways, I was feeling a bit better yesterday afternoon and was about to check item number 14 off my weekend list (have a skirt that I bought 29 days ago at J.Crew that I no longer want...am a return policy nerd and don't believe in messing with their 30-day rule), when I got a call from daycare that EJ had woken up from his nap with a fever.  I took him back to the pediatrician, and the doctor, the same poor man whom I flipped out on last week, breathed an audible sigh of relief in being able to tell me that EJ was fine and his body was working through something viral.  Phew.  EJ and I were heading back to the car when I had a brilliant idea.  The list.

"EJ, would you like to split a snack with mommy and then pop into J. Crew?  Some fresh air and a treat will be good for you and then we can go home to snuggle and rest.  Also, please stop looking at mommy's eyes like that, it's called conjunctivitis and I'm treating it."  EJ showed me his silent affirmation and off we went.  First stop, snack at Panera.  EJ seemed to be in the mood for a pumpkin muffin.  I...oops he, loves pumpkin.  I got coffee for myself and water for him.  All was right with the world.  I set EJ up with his water and a piece of our muffin behind me at the coffee station.  I smiled as I watched my cherubic baby sipping his water and taking tentative bites of the muffin (he must've forgotten how much he likes pumpkin flavor).  Two women next to me starting oohing and aahing over him and I turned to make my coffee.

"That baby is too cute," the woman remarked to her friend.  I grinned.  "That baby's eyes are gorgeous," she continued.  "That baby looks fantastic in blue.  That baby...that baby....is THROWING UP!!"  I spun around. Chunks were flying from my little cherub.

In moments like this, instincts take over.  Apparently my instincts were to: remain eerily calm as he projectile vomited (I didn't want to freak him out), and move my half of the muffin far away from him.  When he finished, I grabbed fistfuls of napkins (I was rollin' without a diaper bag on this impromptu trip), wiped him up as best I could, and dashed out of there before the smell gave us away. When we got to the car, I shoved more napkins down EJ's shirt, rolled down the windows, and sped home, alternating between taking shots of my coffee and shoving the remaining half of the muffin in my mouth.  When the going gets tough, the tough eat dessert.

At a stop light, I turned and looked at my vomit-soaked baby.  He smiled.  I attempted to wink a goopy eye at him. We both burst out laughing.  I looked at my weekend list (hastily written on a Bed Bath and Beyond flyer) thrown beside me on the front seat and crumpled it up with dramatic flourish.  "EJ, let's get through the ides of March first.  There's always next week."