Saturday, March 8, 2014

Mommy Fails: Episode 1

In Japan it is widely discussed, if not believed, that blood type determines a person's temperament and personality. In lessons I've examined this phenomenon ad nauseum with students from all walks of life. Some totally buy into the idea (in the same way that many people religiously read their horoscope), others think that it is an interesting concept but doubt that the entire population falls into four categories, and of course there are those that think it is total nonsense.

A very bare bones look into the four groups goes something like this: "type As are sensitive perfectionists and good team players, but over-anxious. Type Os are curious and generous but stubborn. ABs are arty but mysterious and unpredictable, and type Bs are cheerful but eccentric, individualistic and selfish."

I personally don't believe the whole thing, however, it just so happens that my personality and blood type match up perfectly.

You only get one guess as to which blood type this borderline OCD sister has...

As a "sensitive perfectionist" I find it rather irritating when I wind up in a sticky situation of which I am the cause. Unfortunately, during the past year my sleep deprived, naturally clumsy, baby brain addled self has, on more that one occasion, landed Kio and I into a situation which I have decided to name a "Mommy Fail". For the most part, these situations are not overly amusing at the time, but in retrospect they are pretty hilarious. 

Originally, I had thought that I would collect these and write a blog post in which we could all have a good laugh at my expense. It turns out that there are quite a few more than expected, thus giving birth to the Mommy Fail series. So without further ado, I bring you Episode 1.

In August, Kio and I returned to Japan after a luxurious month in Canada. Kio was severely jet lagged and waking up at around 3:00 in the morning ready for action; I was exhausted, hot and unable to get on top of unpacking and doing laundry from our trip. Which of course means that you can add frustrated to that list.

A perfect recipe for disaster.

After what had become our usual early morning play session, Kio went down for a nap just before dawn. I'd planned to quickly follow suit, but needed something to eat first. As I opened the bedroom door, the handle came off in my hand.

Gah! Bloody cat.

Before I continue with my tale, I need to give a little background information; Mikan the wonder cat can open doors. When the inspiration hits her to relocate to another room, she just jumps up on the door handle and off she goes. It makes keeping a room heated / cooled quite difficult and it also means that our door handles go through a lot of wear and tear.

On with the story...

Exhausted, hot, frustrated and now hungry, I just stood there letting my temper cool before I headed to the kitchen for Shin's toolbox. After fixing the door handle I figured that sleep was more important than a snack so I headed to bed.

An hour or so later Kio woke up and it was time to get ready for our day, and I was now more than ready for breakfast. With Kio in one arm, I opened the bedroom door and for the second time that day the handle came off in my hand.

But this time the door was closed.

And this time the part of the handle that actually turns the mechanism inside the door, was outside the room. (I had reassembled it backwards.)

So we were trapped.

And the story gets even better from here...

We were trapped with a cell phone. But the battery was almost dead.

We were trapped with the tools that I had originally used to 'fix' the door handle. But they were of no use as I needed the part that was laying on the floor outside.

We were trapped together (thank god). But all of Kio's diapers were in the living room.

We were trapped and Kio was starving. But luckily I was breastfeeding so he could eat, although I was also starving.

We were trapped on a Saturday morning. Shin wouldn't be home until late that afternoon.

We were trapped.

And I had to pee.

And Kio had just pooped.

To this day I am unsure how I managed not to have a total breakdown.

The first thing that I did was call Shin who was sleeping one off in his bar. Of course he didn't wake up, but I wasn't surprised. Shin is a very heavy sleeper, but add a few drinks into the mix and he sleeps like the dead. In the past if I have really needed to wake him up, I have called his bar phone and just let it ring. There is no answering machine so it will ring until he finally wakes up and answers it.

The last time (I had locked myself out of the house when I was pregnant) took 35 minutes.

So I dialed, put the phone on speaker and proceeded to deal with the poo situation.

I was digging around for an old towel to fashion into a diaper, when I came across a bag of newborn size diapers that Kio had grown out of before finishing. I looked at my fat baby and the teenie-tiny diapers and figured what the hell.

I will always regret not hanging up the phone and taking a picture. It was seriously hilarious, his big old belly hanging over the top and sausage legs sprouting out the sides of the smallest diaper ever.

Things were ticking along nicely. Poo sorted, baby fed, phone ringing, but my phone battery was dying.

With just a 10% charge left, it was time to change tactics. I called the only other person who I knew would be up at that time on a Saturday, The Sugar Fairy, and asked her for some help. Between the two of us (me ringing the bar phone and The Sugar Fairy calling his cell) the guy would have to wake up, right?

Right...?

In fact he did. And as a rather anti-climatic ending to the story, Kio and I were set free about two hours after the door handle came off in my hand.

The whole scene is pretty hilarious, and would've been even more so if I had been forced to pee in the diaper pail. But even to this day I think about what would've happened if the door had broken with Kio on the inside and me on the outside. I'm sure I would've Mama-bear'd it off the hinges, but luckily that's not what happened.

So you have it, Mommy Fail number one. Don't worry there are MANY more where that one came from.

So much for the type-A perfectionist.