This evening reminded me that today, indeed, is Monday.
Like normal for this time of evening, Elena is in the front pack. She drank the bottle, but now is crying for literally no reason. My back is sore. I rock her back and forth continuing where I left off in Persuasion. It takes time, but she soon sleeps. So I stand and read, making sure that I keep my posture correct.
And so I thought the last half hour of Monday's work day would pass peacefully. Then I hear. "I have to go potty!!" closely followed by "I'm peeeeeing."
Running down the hall, baby still sleeping in the front pack. "Let's go, let's go." I'm trying to guide her to the bathroom, literally three feet away from where she's standing. THREE FEET. She's refusing to move and pulling away from my grasp, I pulled her hair gently and grabbed her shoulder, I can't bend down without waking the baby, I want her at least on the hardwood floor and not the carpet, resigned to the fact that I'll be cleaning the floor. Elena's now awake and crying, Elsa's standing next to the toilet, still peeing, down her legs and onto a puddle on the floor.
I run for paper towels. We're out in the kitchen. And in the pantry. The only paper towels in the house are upstairs in my bathroom. I grab a new outfit, forgetting a towel and run back down. I start cleaning up the floor making my way to where she's standing. It's hard to clean with a baby screaming at you, so I put her in her bouncer and rush back. I was snippy and sharp at first and then I couldn't help but think it was amusing, almost hilarious.
Bath started, stubborn toddler refusing to sit down in the most definitely not-too-hot water, cleaning the floor. Toddler finally in the bath, baby crying again, so she's back in the front pack. And at this moment, Lisa shows up...