I’ve had a lot of them. And apparently they only get worse and more frequent with each pregnancy. One such moment happened last Wednesday.
A good friend of ours had been going through a lot. Having their suburban stolen while on vacation was one of these – not to mention the fact that she is expecting too, in fact we have the same due date. 🙂 In a small effort I offered to take them dinner, or at the very least have them come play and eat dinner at our house. It was decided that the latter would be best as it would alleviate some of the stress in general to have some fun conversation and let the kids hang out with friends, etc.
I had decided on ground beef stroganoff for dinner as it is easy, inexpensive, feeds a lot of people, and best of all, yummy. The kids were terrors that day – fighting, squabbling, complaining at every moment when I asked for some help. I was in the middle of cooking dinner when I realized that Jacob wasn’t around.
“I’d better see what he is up to,” I muttered as I flipped the burner down to medium and set off in search of the rascally two year old. The aroma of dirty, stinky diaper punched me in the nose as I walked into his bedroom. I first saw his little bare bottom facing me as he crawled along his bed before the horror hit me. He hadn’t bothered to let me know he was stinky but decided to take care of it himself. I dodged little diaper presents on the floor as I made my way to the corner where the discarded object lay. That in itself was a feat as the diaper presents tended to blend in with the carpet. I swatted that little bare bottom and had him clean up all the blankets and things that could be possibly dirty, tossing them all into the hamper. Then I scrubbed the floor.
I ran out to the kitchen, stirred the food. “I’ll do a quick bath for him, the food will be fine.”
Had I been lucid I would have remembered that toddlers and quick baths don’t exist. Had I been lucid I would have realized that I had already been cooking the food for quite some time BEFORE the whole diaper incident. Had I been lucid I would have realized that it had already stuck just a bit when I had stopped to stir it just then.
BUT, when you are pregnant, you are NOT lucid. *SIGH*
I gave Jacob a bath, got him all clean, reinspected the bedroom and went back out to the kitchen, fully expecting to find everything in fine order.
It wasn’t. The stroganoff was scorched to the bottom of the pan and I had a family of 7 descending upon us in 30 minutes – and my oven was STILL NOT FIXED. I tested the the food – just in case it wasn’t too noticeable. It was terrible.
So, I did the only the a respectable pregnant lady would do. I called my husband and burst into tears.
His first comment was to get pizza (we all know how the last pizza saga worked out) and then he remembered that he hadn’t had a chance to fix the oven yet. (The new element was purchase, but the wire it connected to was black, signifying a loose connection and he needed to fix that in order to hook up the new element). He, being the brilliant husband that he is, suggested getting the pizzas (it was way to expensive to order enough pizzas to feed 13 people from a place like Domino’s or something) and cooking them at our friend’s house who lives right behind us.
So, I called my friends, still partly panicked and dashing tears away. She readily agreed to lend me her oven. She lent her 12 year old son to sit in the car with the kids while I ran into the store to get the pizzas. Then she was kind enough to cook the pizzas and bring them too us.
Thank goodness for good friends and husbands who help us out of these pregnant moments. 🙂
P.S. My wonderful HHH was able to fix my oven on Saturday and after a week and a half of no oven I am very excited to say that it works beautifully and I can’t wait to bake brownies. 🙂