Outnumbered

I am so outnumbered. And in over my head.

Do you want to know who asks for help out with their groceries? THe answer is me. ANd the elderly. Actually, I don't ask for the help. I must look totally overwhelmed because people keep offering. Even at the stores that don't typically offer that service (think Aldi). And in totally not me fashion, I am accepting the help. I need it. Two kids, 10 pounds of clemtines, 16 pounds of milk, an extra-large bottle of vodka (I swear, it's a Christmas present), a jumbo pack of diapers, and I needed the help. The baby bucket car seat carrier took up the whole basket. Big kid in the seat (which couldn't go all the way back because of the car seat in the basket) and all the groceries on the rack/shelf underneath. Good times.

What's the deal with the Nicole Kidman/Chanel commercials?

Here's a story.
Of a lovely lady....

Bobo was happily nursing as is his habit. Also as his habit, food in made poop come out. I finished nursing him and headed up to the changing table. I got to the bottom step and heard Lisa The Cat start to puke. I set Bobo down in his little chair and I relocated Lisa from the carpet to the tile to facilitate clean up. I picked Bobo up again and started up the steps. I got to the second step and heard Chuckles in the kitchen say that he was wet. I asked why. He spilled his milk. Now, I know I only put a half ounce of milk in the cup, so it couldn't be that bad. I set Bobo back in his little chair. Chuckles was soaked. I have no idea how. I cleaned the floor, table, the place between the table where things go to become sticky, the booster seat, the chair under the booster. THen I realize Chuckles's clothes were soaked. He was stripped naked in the kitchen because he was that wet. I sent him to his room to get clothes. I picked up Bobo and plopped him in his crib while I tended to Chuckles. I got Chuckles dressed, went in and changed Bobo's still-poopy diaper. As long as I was upstairs, I brushed my teeth. Got both kids and headed back downstairs. I cleaned up the cake puke which was quite easy to clean off of the tile. Chuckles asked for lunch as it was now 11:00. I obliged. I heard Bobo deposit poop in his diaper again. Didn't I just change him? Yes I did, but he'd been sitting in it for a half hour. Bobo was changed. Time to feed him again. I just get Bobo settled to eat (which is quite a production what with the pillows and the repetitive stress injury I have from my nursing position). Chuckles needs milk since he spilled his earlier and the cup and remaining milk were set in the sink. I can't get it for him. I told him to wait. He decides to get it himself. There is nothing I can do. He pulls a chair over to the cupboard, gets a cup, gets the milk out of the fridge, climbs up on the chair and pours it into his cup. He replaces the milk in the fridge. Success. Success. Milk has been acquired and I didn't have to do anything. Woo Hoo. I count this day as one for the "Good" column.