It was Monday. It’s still hard to talk about, hence the four-day lapse.
Bad days, I’ve found, come more often now that I’m a mother. Perhaps it’s merely statistical: Two people have more bad days than one person, and now that I’m really two people (me and Seabass), bad days are more likely to occur.
But I think it’s more than circumstantial. I’m pretty sure I set myself up for them – last Monday in particular. Here’s what I mean:
Mistake Numero Uno: I went for a run.
Running, in and of itself isn’t a bad idea, but running on broken sidewalks with a dog and a non-jogger stroller with a Seabass inside is a very, very bad idea. For about the first ten minutes, I was able to dodge all obstacles in my path (like tall sidewalks – I never noticed it before having kids, but why are some sidewalks ramped and others not? Don’t our cities realize that high sidewalks CAN KILL?!??) and was even congratulating myself on my swiftness of foot. Then it happened. My toe hit one of the stroller’s wheels as I navigated a portion of bad sidewalk, I stepped on the dog’s leash, which was attached to the stroller, the dog yelped, I fell hard on my left butt cheek, and (this is the worst part) the stroller tipped over and on to me with a very frightened – but totally safe – Seabass.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve fallen in public, but it isn’t getting any easier.
Mistake Numero Dos: I invited a magazine photographer into my home.
A friend of a friend of a friend told a local publisher that I like to cook and the magazine called to get a recipe and a time for a photographer to come over to capture me in the kitchen. I chose to make a delicious tomato and red pepper tart (love those veggies baked into crusts) and tried to make the dough ahead of time – just after my disastrous run. Seabass was being particularly difficult that morning, but I couldn’t exactly hold him with one arm whilst kneading a lump of dough. So I strapped him into the Ergo carrier on my back. The yeast dissolved into the warm water and I’d just filled my mixing bowl with all the ingredients (think flour, egg, etc.) when Seabass reached out, grabbed the bowl, and spilled the contents all over our brand new hardwood floor. And the photographer was due in just ten minutes.
Hard not to yell, cry, or dissolve into a puddle of whimpers.
Mistake Numero Tres: I missed a meeting for work.
Okay, actually I didn’t *miss* it; I was unintentionally omitted. Whatever, it still sucked.
I work from home during Seabass’ naps, so there is a set time each day that I’m available to chat. Otherwise, I just tell my employers that I absolutely cannot get anything of value done while he’s awake. They are so understanding and empathetic…but they forget. I kid you not: it was with my heiney all black and blue, a bowl’s worth of flour, water and egg on my floor, and a screaming Seabass on my back that I decided to check my voicemail. Just for kicks, I guess. Sure enough, my wonderful (and I mean that) boss was on the other line, cheerfully announcing that she had assembled the team for a phone meeting I’d never heard of, and could I please call them back to join in? At my earliest convenience? The message had been left over an hour previously.
It was right about then that I felt doomed to fail. Thankfully, in the end, lives were not lost.