I have only myself to blame.

The things I try to do on my own with both of my kids in tow...sometimes I KNOW before I even start that I've developed a stupid plan for the day, but that doesn't ordinarily stop me. Heh. A compounding factor on the weekends is the frequent absence of my husband, which isn't his fault. He is gone for work about half the time. It's just the nature of his job. I would love to suspend all interesting activities until he's available to join us, but with the reality of the situation that would make me a pretty dull person. I choose to just carry on. We miss him very much, but missing him while holed up at home just makes us all cranky as well as lonely.

Today was a morning where I just shook my head at me. I wanted to go to church, then lunch, then the grocery store. Church went as well as can be expected. Genevieve was an angel, save for pooping twice, which necessitated I drag myself and Payne and her into the church bathroom. At least at church no one steals your seat in your absence! The most stressful part of the bathroom endeavor is trying to keep Payne from touching stuff or opening the door. When I found myself getting flustered I just popped him up on the changing counter; which is at a height that strands him, feet-a-dangling (evil cackle). Aside from that church wasn't so bad. We only had one moment where I was essentially wrestling him still as he pulled my hair. I neutralized the struggle by threatening not to let him watch his new movie this afternoon (yet another evil cackle). This is not to say that we weren't a lively and entertaining trio for the rest of the churchgoers. It's kind of a rule at this point that we fill that role. People cackled as Payne shoved his toys down my shirt while I had both hands occupied feeding the baby a bottle, and as he drove his toy truck up and down the stained glass, and as he kept stumbling into others and chirping "Sorr-ee!".

After church got out I wanted pancakes, so we went to IHOP. Yes, I voluntarily went to IHOP during normal "after church" hours on a Sunday. I'm an idiot. Genevieve was again a doll. She's just having a good day today, which is fortunate considering my poor planning skills. Heh. Payne entertained our fellow inhabitants of pancake purgatory with rolling about on the floor and the like for about 20 minutes. All in all, it wasn't so very horrible of a meal, it was just the end that was rough, with a syrup spattered Payne harassing the people in the booth behind him while Genevieve screamed and I did that oh so subtle "give me the damn check" move with my exposed credit card. Payne wanted to carry his own to-go box (naturally he was only interested in the sausage on my plate, instead of the pancakes, eggs, and bacon on his own), so I carefully instructed him in the art of carrying the box, complete with an in-restaurant demonstration. Of course, as soon as I turned my back to him he ran off holding the box hinge like a strap and swinging it. Thank God for the frictional properties of Styrofoam, or the brunch lovers of suburbia would have been thoroughly spattered with a soggy, sticky souvenir of their meal. Of course, this just about gave me a heart attack as I valiantly struggled to free the car seat bucket from the vice grip of a vinyl upholstered booth in order to chase after him and wrest free the offending box.

We didn't make it to the grocery store. I may just pour 35 individual creamer cups into Payne's sippy in the morning in lieu of milk. I'm not being gross, folks. I'm being resourceful.

Just so we have a picture in this post, here's Genevieve's Baby Outfit of the Day. Yeah. I love baby tights.