Pooped-On Plans

I hestitate to post this because it seems so trite....that I cried on Easter because of a poopy diaper.  But I'll preface the story by explaining that I've been working on very little sleep and that our whole house has been under much stress for the past few weeks in anticipation of my husband's (many) piano recitals (he is a concert pianist and professor).  So the last few months have been slim to begin with on Daddy-time as he's upped his practicing and he was gone for a week last week doing three out-of-town concerts.  And his college concert (yes, it is a big deal...he's still in the tenure process) was this past Friday.  So I've been holding down the fort.  (not very well...but trying awfully hard).  OK, that's the preface:  little sleep, lots of built up stress.

I'd bought these cute matching Easter outfits for the kids about a month ago.  This is the first time I've done the whole matching thing and they are so cute...I've been anxiously anticipating seeing them all in their adorableness on Easter morning.  But it seems that it just was not meant to be (which, in hindsight, should have been a given, seeing as how I have a 2.5 year old AND a 4.5 month old in the mix).  I find out Saturday night that Scott has to be at a meeting from 6:30 to 8:30 am (yes, you might ask, WHO has a meeting on EASTER MORNING....alas!).  Church is at 9.  So, I'm doing pretty well.  We wake at 6 for baskets (yes, should have done this on Saturday, but did I mention the lack of sleep and much stress?  My brain isn't completely functioning at the moment) then all morning relaxing eating junk and (trying) to feed healthy breakfasts to the (very un-interested) kiddos.  I get myself showered and dressed (in the only Easter-y dress I own) and then start with the kids.  Wendy is dressed and brushed and lovely and helpful.  John refuses to take off the superman jammies-with-the-cape to don the adorable pink/green/blue striped oxford that I"VE WAITED FOR A MONTH TO SEE HIM IN.  Blah.  Try lots of convincing.  (you could cut in here with trying to explain to me that he is 2 and a half and that really, what does a shirt matter? and can't he just wear what he wants? and you-have-to-choose-your-battles comments, but remember the lack of sleep and much stress factor?  yeah.)  Finally get the shirt on OVER the superman costume with-cape-coming-out-the-neck.  He's still not happy...and neither am I.   Michael is dressed in his matching pink/green/blue striped oxford.  Oh-so-cute.  He is sitting happily in his new bumbo seat (the seat even matches the outfits!).  John continues to fuss about "me not want this yucky shirt" blah blah blah, fuss fuss fuss.  I snap some photos...in which John refuses to participate willingly. I am trying to maintain a happy house while 8:30 turns into 8:45 and still no Daddy.  Meanwhile, I am ready to go back to bed. 

8:50 Daddy arrives (whoever schedules meeting on Easter morning obviously has no qualms letting the meeting go LATE).  All are out the door as I pick up Michael and smell stinky diaper.  Go to change him.  Discover that said diaper has exploded not only all over him, his pants, his onesie and THE NEW GREEN/PINK/BLUE STRIPED OXFORD THAT I HAVE BEEN WAITING A MONTH TO SEE HIM IN but also THE ONLY EASTER-Y DRESS I HAPPEN TO OWN.  There is poop everywhere.  Did I say everywhere?  It is 8:55 Easter morning and I am bawling....no, not over the beauty of the holiday, the resurrection, the atonement, Christ's great gift to us....no, I am (have I mentioned over-tired and over-stressed?  Can I please use this excuse?) crying over poop on the Easter clothes. 

Fear not, the day got MUCH better.  Lovely dinner at friend's lovely home, kids had fun, great adult conversation.  Lovely Easter day.