My Pity Party

Yesterday was not a very good day for me for three reasons I realized I was a bad mother, a blogger to no one, and a sort of hooker. By the end of the day, I wanted to invite everyone over to throw me a pity party. I hope you all feel very sorry for me after reading this and you can send your sympathy gifts (money preferred) to my house.

First Noah woke up with the mother of all diaper rashes because he pooped in his sleep and sat in it all night. I woke up to him crying, walked into a wretchedly foul smelling room, and had to scrape the poop that was stuck to his butt off as he writhed and screamed in pain. As he was writhing, he grabbed the poopy diaper and swung it. Good thing it only resulted in poop on my finger and not all over the place, but I should have known better than to leave it within his reach, not to mention letting him sleep in his own poop all night. 

Then, we decided to go to the beach despite the diaper rash, where Noah ate enough sand to make himself full and in the process blinded himself by wiping his eyes with sandy hands. I dunked him in the ocean water to clean him off. He cried and looked at me with a "how could you" look because his butt was on fire due to the salt water...duh mom...he has a severe diaper rash...ocean water -not the best idea.   I tried to make him feel better by showing him sand crabs but he wasn't interested. What kid doesn't like sand crabs?

Maia Belle did well at the beach but after we got home she seemed to cry non-stop and I thought about putting her for sale on craigslist. Later I realized that she'd been crying all afternoon because she was starving. My boobs aren't producing enough milk for her. I apologized to her for threatening to sell her and promised to do whatever it takes to get my milk supply back up. This means taking herbs that make me smell like a rotting forest and pumping like crazy so I feel like a cow. 

After both kids were finally asleep for the night, I decided to check my blog to see if anyone had read my posts and left me comments which always cheer me up. NOTHING. 

The final blow came when my hubby offered to give me a back massage. I thought, "wow, how sweet! He knows how tired and bummed I am feeling and wants to help me relax and go to sleep." Yeah right! I should have known that he was expecting "something" in return...men...sheesh!   

Does anyone feel sorry for me yet?...No?...okay...I'm over it now. Ready to move on to the next blog!...Unless of course you feel compelled to send me a gift, then I am sitting here crying my eyes out and eating a gallon of ice cream.