I had to go out of town overnight this week and left Daddy flying solo with the three. I left notes. I instructed and lectured before I left. I bought lunchables to make the lunchbox prep easier. I thought I had all the bases covered. After all, it was just one night.
I called home to check on everyone and was told by the nanny that Catherine wasn't feeling well. She had pink eyes. Was in a foul mood. And she and William both had been put in time out at school. So from three hours away I called the nurse to find out how we'd know if she truly had pink eye and what we should do about it. I found out it's a simple diagnosis. If she woke up and her eyes were glued together, it would be official. In which case they'd call in some eye drops. So I called Andy with instructions to watch out for Elmer eyes in the morning and call the Dr. I'd deal with the time out issue later. As for the foul mood....the point was???? Sounded like a typical day to me...
So the next morning I called early to check on her and Andy said the eyes were open and no sign of glue. So she just had pink eyes...not pink eyes. One crisis diverted. He said he was off to do the morning routine and get everyone ready for school. Knowing I'd left detailed instructions (and lunchables that surely could make it from the fridge into the bags) I wasn't worried. But I wished him luck nevertheless.
I was walking into my breakfast meeting when my phone rang and I saw "home" flash on the screen. I answered. I heard weeping and wailing in the background. Andy sounded desperate.
"Can you talk to Catherine? She wants to wear this little wrap shirt and bloomers to school."
"So? Let her wear her Tinkerbell costume if she wants. No one cares (something I've learned through great wisdom and experience)."
"No, not real bloomers. They're more like panties. She'd have on a shirt and panties."
"Hmmm. Mmkay. I see. Put her on."
At this point I'm standing outside the door of the restaurant holding the phone to one ear and sticking my finger in the other ear to drown out the traffic. I hear this sad little voice.
"Hey sweetie. Listen, you need to do what Daddy tells you to do. You need to wear what Daddy tells you to wear."
"Waaaaagggghhhh! But I don't wanna...."
I cut her off.
"I'LL BRING YOU A BAG OF CANDY WHEN I GET HOME!!!!!!!"
"Okay. Here, Daddy. Talk to mama."
Daddy got back on the phone.
"Ok..." I announced, "She'll wear whatever you tell her to wear."
"How'd you do that?"
"Um, I just told her to do what you tell her to. She minds me. What can I say?"
I can't let him in on all my secrets.
But here's one I should have shared. When I got home last night it was about 9:00. Andy had let William and Catherine stay up to see me. I was hugging on them and Andy said "Would you look at this?" I followed him into the baby's room "This is what Stuart did until nearly 10:00 last night and he's doing it again! I turn it off and he turns it back on and won't go to sleep!"
I looked into the room and sure enough, Stuart was reaching over next to the bed flipping the light switch on and off. I walked up to the ceiling fan, pulled the cord to turn the light off from the fan as Andy's own light (the one in his head) came on at that point and he said "Ahhhhh."
We're all adjusting.