Ingenuity

Dear Addie,

Teddy Roosevelt once said, “Do what you can, where you are, with what you have!” and this week you proved to us that you truly understood this sentiment.

As much as we’d like to think we are prepared for whatever should or could happen wherever we go, I promise you there will always come a time when you need to expect the unexpected and perhaps become a little resourceful in certain situations.

For myself, I’ve always been what I perceive as a pretty decent planner. I start Christmas shopping at the end of summer, write out everyone’s activities, appointments, or travel schedule in a color-coded system on an obscenely large calendar rather than simply relying on my phone (I need a visual), my phone while not relied upon for the calendar is often utilized with numerous alarms reminding me of whatever is happening on that far too large calendar and where I need to be, I strive to be early rather than late, prepack what I can in lunches the night before and even pick out my clothes like I’m still in elementary school before I go to bed. One could say this is just being a creature of habit perhaps – but even the best of planners will find themselves ill-prepared at one time or another.

Rewind way back to the beginning of your life’s journey at your 6-week baby checkup. With you being number 3 in our lineup, one would think this would have been routine for me by then. Baby, brother Gabe, diaper bag, keys, purse – let’s go. For the record, there is a certain type of pride a new parent takes in doing just about anything successful with a newborn and a 3-year-old, just saying. Little did I know that pride my 6-week postpartum self was feeling was about to take a back seat as we arrived, however uneventfully, at the doctor’s office and you, our sweet angelic tiny baby decides it’s the perfect time to completely blow out your diaper all the way up your back.

All parents know this blowout, it’s the one you text your spouse about because for whatever reason you think they too should share in this grotesque event which is actually really funny because they literally can’t do anything to help in this situation. But you, for whatever reason just need them to know what kind of day you’re having. Of course, this would happen right?! No worries though, I’m prepared, I have my diaper bag with everything I need – A change of clothes, wipes, diapers… wait where are the diapers? Nooooooooooooooooo! Ugh, what good is a diaper bag if you forget to pack what it is actually intended for?!

After a walk of shame to the nurse’s station, they were able to provide a diaper (it was actually too big for your tiny baby booty, but hey – it was far better than nothing!). Life lesson my dear, expect the unexpected and a walk of shame just might save you.

Now let’s fast forward to this week and we are about an hour and forty-five minutes into our two-and half-hour carpool pick-up. We were at our last stop, farthest from home, and are about to realize we are suddenly unprepared.

Now because our life is always eventful – a little side note is big sister Clara’s Tourette’s and your hypersensitive auditory system are a wee bit like oil and water – our solution (which in full disclosure isn’t always full proof) is you wearing noise-canceling headphones, which in and of itself took a very long time for you to accomplish. So kudos to you baby girl! Now we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic on an expressway, far from home, and just like that the screaming starts. Clara makes a sound (which she can’t control and to anyone else is very faint) you hear it to a magnified degree and start screaming. Back and forth, back and forth. Clara starts feverishly going through your bookbag looking for any of the gazillion pairs of headphones we own. Nothing. Searches the floor – nothing. They are nowhere to be seen, and our car is now at a standstill in traffic. All there was were an assortment of toys you have decided for whatever reason needed to be in the car, backpacks, and a bag of snacks (because of course I was prepared enough to remember snacks for the long carpool adventure just not an extra set of headphones!).

Clara, as sweet as she is, tried for a peace offering with some starbursts she found in the snack bag, which of course you quickly accepted, but the peace was short-lived and now you were yelling with candy in your mouth – insert my anxiety kicking in! Can you say choking hazard? Now I’m happy to report that the chewing was a bit of a distraction and you successfully swallowed everything before starting in on voicing your displeasure again. Honestly, it’s in these moments as a parent where I can’t exactly tell if I have nerves of steel or maybe I’m on my last nerve of craziness.

I legit started praying for the cars to start moving so we could just get home and then Clara said, “Mom look what Addie is doing!” I turned around to find you holding a nail buffer (this is right up there with daddy’s belt rack, I have no idea why you play with this) and a plush jellyfish toy pressed against your ears. You were trying to make your own headphones with what was at your disposal. I was equal parts sad for how sad you were and looked, and proud at your ingenuity in trying to solve the problem. The good news, the cars did eventually begin to move and we all made it home safely with your makeshift headphones. Side Note: They didn't work as well as I think you thought they would, but then again it was a nail buffer and stuffed jellyfish so... but honestly the distraction of it all I think helped cut your sensory displeasure down about 50% which was positive for all involved.

Addie, we fell short on being prepared this week, but you did a great job living out that famous Teddy Roosevelt quote. You did what you could, with what you had and I’m so proud of you for that. You very well could have fallen into a full stage 10 meltdown, but you didn't and instead tried to solve the problem.

For the record I ordered two extra sets of headphones when we got home so hopefully, we’ll be better prepared in the future.

I love you, Addie.

Mom