A Life Behind Bars

All right, here it is.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be arrested for being a poor mother. Before you start protesting and saying such things like "we all make mistakes", please listen to this one.

Here's the scene: I'm in Seattle, I'm morning sick, and trying to do five million things at once.

Gracie(toddling toward me): I pooped.

Me (wrinkling my nose): Yes you did.

Gracie: Change it

Me: Okay, bring me a diaper and the changing pad.

---she actually does this now!---

I quickly change Gracie's diaper and move forward with my life, which consists of me running the diaper out to the dump. I come back to find my daughter doing weird lunges around the house. She looks up at me, her big blue eyes full of concern.

Gracie: Bum. It hurts

Me: Well, maybe stop lunging.

Gracie: Hug

Me: (I pick her up): Is that better?

Gracie (now squirming beyond reason): Bum, it hurts.

This is when I figure I should check things out. Two seconds later I discover a diaper so poorly placed that I have accidentally discovered the next big thing in torture.

Me: Honey, I'm so sorry! What have I done? Please forgive me! I would never do this to you, unless, you know, I did. I promise I didn't mean to do this. From now on I will be so careful when changing your diaper. You are the most precious thing in the world to me! I love you so much, here eat five million m&m's.

Gracie's eyes are wide open with concern. She can't remember the last time I threw a fit like this. The next thing I know she won't stop lunging and won't stop telling me her bum hurts. It's been like this all week. On the airplane "Ouch, it hurts!", at home, where Sean keeps asking me why her bum hurts, and anywhere else we happen to be.

I can picture myself next time at the grocery store. Unwittingly, a social worker will be behind me looking for chips when a weird conversation catches her ear.

Me: You've already had enough butter and chocolate for the day, so stop asking for it.

Gracie: Bum, it hurts

Me: No it doesn't. You just want more chocolate.

This conversation will continue long enough for the social worker to call the police and have me arrested. I will be sad to leave my small family and new home before ever moving into it. But I will have learned my lesson about the importance of a decent diaper change.

***On another note, it turned out, much to every one's gigantic disappointment, the my mom did have thyroid cancer. Thankfully, it had not entered her blood stream and she is currently recovering from a second surgery. After figuring out proper hormones, it looks like she should be just fine, for which I am eternally grateful.***

***On a totally random tangent, does anyone know the artist who sings the song in the new Old Navy commercial? The one about if you're cold you can have my sweater? I can't get it out of my head and want to download it. Thanks!***