I pulled into my driveway this afternoon with two sleeping girls in their carseats and realized something. We’ve made it to a point where it isn’t completely impossible to take the two of them out for the day by myself. I no longer have to park in super weird and faraway places so that I can nurse a baby without someone getting out of their car and looking right at me. PR can go many hours without having to pee, so I don’t need to be within arm’s length of a bathroom at all times. And she only sometimes locks me out of the bathroom when she does have to go, then poops, then calls for me to come in and wipe her because she can’t reach the toilet paper, but I can’t come in and wipe her because she has locked me out. I can leave for the day without a suitcase-sized bag filled with two sizes of diapers, four different changes of clothes, a variety of toys, freshly packed snacks, old snacks that I forgot were in there, burp cloths, a blanket, at least three binkies, but not my wallet because I’d forgotten to pack it. I can even wear real clothes because the chance that I’ll be barfed on is probably less than 10%.
Today LB had her appointment with the dietician because her pediatrician thought that her telling me to add calories to LB’s food wasn’t enough. I guess she figured that if I paid $60 for a specialist to tell me to add olive oil to all of her food and drinks, I’d be more likely to do it. She literally told me to put a teaspoon of olive oil into her almond milk. Is it bad that my first thought was, “Gross!” and my second thought was, “Wait, how will her cup ever get clean if it’s constantly filled with olive oil?” I snapped back to reality when I heard her telling me to give her peanut butter to dip her carrots into. Is that a thing? We have to go for a follow up in July and I can confidently tell you that between now and then, I will have added olive oil to her almond milk exactly zero times. If she wants peanut butter carrots, that’s fine, but I’m thinking more along the lines of smoothies.
I must have caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror on the way to the appointment because I came to the realization that I could not go for one more day without getting my eyebrows waxed and the doctor’s office happens to be less than ten minutes from my hair salon. I thought about it for a few minutes and decided that I could pull it off with both kids in tow because those eyebrow ladies are quick! I was able to book an appointment that seemed like it would be the perfect amount of time to see the doctor, book our follow up appointment, let the girls pick seven stickers that they want and then narrow it down to two each (ok three), make the obligatory bathroom trip, get back to the parking garage, find where the heck I put my ticket, pay the ticket, load everyone in the car and then drive to the salon. OB called as we were in the midst of the obligatory bathroom trip. PR was on the potty asking me to hold her hand and I was changing LB’s diaper. He seemed to think that bringing the girls to my eyebrow appointment sounded crazy. I’m not sure if he was worried that I would lose one (eyebrow or child), or if he thought there was a chance that I’d be banned from the salon for life due to the potential destruction that the little hooligans might cause. Either way, I was determined to make it happen because I didn’t feel like spending an hour with my tweezers when I got home.
When we got to the salon I told the girls that they had to be on their best behavior and could only whisper because people were there to relax. I don’t think LB said a word the whole time we were there. PR saw a couple of nail polish colors that she seemed to think I needed, but other than that, she managed to reign it in. They both sat completely still and silent while I had my eyebrows done. It was a proud mom moment for sure. I think it will be up there with their first words, first time writing their names, riding a bike… The first time they went with me to the salon and sat there like perfect little angels because they probably didn’t want to be seen in public with me and my unruly eyebrows for one more second. I rewarded them with sparkly headbands and hair elastics that they picked out before we left.
They both agreed that they wanted to go to a restaurant for pizza and apples when we left the salon. I tried to explain that not a lot of restaurants serve apples, but that we had some apples at home and they could have one after. Not good enough. Then I suggested apple juice. Nope. “Mama, I told you. I WANT apples!” (PR). Thankfully the restaurant that I went to had a salad with apples in it on the menu and when I awkwardly asked the waitress if she could bring us a couple of apple slices, she seemed totally cool with it. The girls were on top of their games at the restaurant and even ate all of their food and asked for seconds. There were no spontaneous bathroom trips that needed to be made right as the food hit the table. Other than a few spots of pizza sauce on a white skirt, we made it out completely unscathed. I couldn’t believe it.
Both girls fell asleep shortly after I left the parking lot and napped as we drove home. I pulled into the driveway and waited another twenty minutes before I got them out so they could get a little more sleep. While they slept I thought about how grown up they are now. They are no longer babies that cry for unknown reasons, they are big girls that cry when you tell them they might not be able to get apples at the restaurant. Two kids, one mom, gone for a total of five hours, had zero meltdowns, zero necessary clothing changes, one bathroom trip and made it home with six stickers. I’d say it was a good day.