Primary Mommy Job

As I wait to pop or be induced or whatever it is I need to do to get this baby out, I’m making plans to cover all the bases. Every night I make sure the clean dishes are emptied out of the dishwasher and dirty dishes in; the clean laundry is folded and promptly put away (as opposed to my I’ll-put-it-away-in-the-morning philosophy toward clean clothes); the girls are both bathed and have had their hair fixed up in some fashion, since I know my dad and grandma (the two on call) know nothing about fixing little girls’ hair; the girls’ clothes are laid out for the next day, and the house is left in ship-shape order. I don’t know why this last base is so vital to me, other than the fact that I’m already anal about things being put back in their place at the end of the day.

My mom asked me the other day if I had written out the girls’ schedule, and I jolted in horror at the fact that I hadn’t done this yet. One more thing yet to accomplish as soon as...yesterday. In the state of affairs with my parents both working during the week and my mom’s schedule being unpredictable, leaving detailed plans out for my girls and their replacement mommy is a must. I just don’t know who will be available within my church family in a possible emergency moment of need.

So last night, even though I was already hitting the hay at an indecent hour, I took an extra 20 minutes and made out my own emergency mommy-replacement sub plans. I got as detailed as how many ounces of milk Essie gets at what intervals, what to make the girls at each mealtime, what time to take them outside to play, and what times naptime and bedtime fall, including the no-nap caveat, hastening the bedtime hour. I think the most important piece of information I included, though, is what I scrawled in bright orange lettering across the top of the page: Don’t forget to potty them! I then carefully highlighted specific potty times every two hours throughout the day. Yes, I’m still reminding my four-year-old to go potty. I guess that means she’s not officially potty-trained, huh? I’m the one who’s potty trained. If I don’t remind her, she goes hours without going, and when she finally remembers to go, she’s a wiggling mass of move-out-of-my-way-or-I’m-going-to-burst-all-over-you. I guess I should leave her alone in this struggle; eventually, she’ll understand that waiting too long is simply not the smartest thing. But I also have to constantly remind my just-potty-trained two-year-old, so I figure, why not have Abby go at the same time? And this is all very apropos because I’ve been saying for several months now that I think my primary job in mothering is to wipe little bottoms. When you do it as much as 15 to 20 times a day, not including my own, you’ll understand where I'm coming from.