Well, Day One of "Couch Arrest" is behind me and I've learned several things about myself in the last twenty four hours. First? I suck at following directions.
It's impossible to "mom" from the couch with an almost three-year-old and ten-month-old running amok. I mean, there's only so much Disney Junior two little short attention spans can handle. Even with baby gates barring nearly every entryway in our home, all hell still managed to break loose multiple times throughout the day.
Second? I hate asking for help. This isn't news to me as I've always been of the mindset that I can "do it all myself" but after seeing the shape that my ankle was in at the end of the day yesterday, it was clear that I was way overdoing it. In fact, I'm pretty sure I win the award for Grossest Text Message Ever Sent as I was snapping pictures and sending my gruesome ankle image to friends everywhere. Thankfully I have some help in the form of friends and family stepping in over the next few days.
Third? I'm a terrible patient but lucky that I have such a handsome little doctor in charge of my care. Don't pay no mind to the fact that he's listening for a heartbeat in my ankle. I didn't want to hurt his feelings by asking him for his credentials.
My house looks like we've been robbed and I would be lying if I said I didn't feed the toddler whatever he wanted when he wanted it. This means he may or may not have eaten two Oreos and two cups of goldfish for lunch. Que sera sera.
When my husband walked in the door yesterday evening, I was giving the baby a sink bath with my ankle awkwardly propped up on a kitchen chair behind me. Why? Because, at my wit's end, I let the baby feed himself applesauce in the high chair and by "feed himself" I mean I let him smear the applesauce in every crevice and orifice on both his body and the high chair.
It was the first time I used our awesome all-natural non-toxic Spuds dishware made from reclaimed potatoes from BloomMaternity. Maclane loved it and had no trouble feeding himself with the perfect baby-sized spoon. Clearly I underestimated his talent as I was certain he would have no idea what to do with it. Just look at that concentration! Shame on me!
I ended the day by mixing myself up a homemade Frappuccino and adding a shot (or two) of Baileys as I sat myself on the couch where I proceeded to pretend as if my family didn't exist or at the very least need my help for at least fifteen minutes. Here's what Maclane thought about it:
Only four more days to go of this "Couch Arrest..." Is it Friday yet? If you want to follow along with my Tales From The Couch, be sure to follow #APsTalesFromTheCouch on Instagram. I promise I won't post any gruesome ankle pictures... Maybe.
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