Pass the milk

I am so having one of those days.

This morning the neighbor boy came over for a bit while his parents were busy. Everything was going swimmingly, until I looked over at E. She had woken up just after he got there, and was still in her jammies. Just as I looked at her a big juicy poo fell out of her pants and dropped in a puddle of piss. Awesome.

When they came to pick him up, they offered to let E go over and play while I ran errands. This is perfect, she is ready to go...and in a diaper because I cannot deal with anymore accidents. We have been having a really bad week of accidents and I am over it.

So I head of to my WIC appointment. I applied for WIC about a month ago and this was my second visit. I hate, hate, hate it. I have already had the "is it worth it?" conversation with my guy. He thinks if I can deal with it, then yes it is worth it. As of right now we get 6 gallons of milk, 2 dozen eggs, 36 0z. of juice, 1 lb. of cheese, 18 oz. of peanut butter and one can of evaporated milk. However, in order to get these things every month, we have to go in for "nutrition" consultations and "general nutrition" classes. This morning was one of those general nutrition classes. I am sitting there in a room full of women with their babies...one of whom is feeding her infant *CHEETOS*, yes, Cheetos. I could not even believe it. The over zealous woman running the class started by asking everyone what a calorie is. Silence. After a few quite moments, I finally pipe up that it is a measurement of energy. She almost hugged me.

She goes on to tell us all the predictable things. Eat so many fruits, eat so many veggies, meat is a source of protein, blah, blah, blah. Then she starts in on a milk rant and how that is the biggest thing that she wants us all to come away with. How extremely important calcium and milk are, and that we should all be sure that our little ones are drinking enough.

Just as I was about to put in my two cents and ask her how she felt about all the hormones, antibiotics, dead bacteria, and fecal matter in her frosty live-saving glass of milk....a woman comes in to get me to ask me if I am still breastfeeding. Jeez, that was a narrow escape. I manage to make it out of the WIC office without totally losing my mind.

I head to the grocery store and collect the items I am "allowed" from my checks. All the while wondering why in the hell are they giving me evaporated milk? Why are they giving me sugar laden juice? And where are all the fruits and vegetables? I get all my stuff, and find some killer deals on some natural/organic soap and lotion. And into the check-out line I go. The woman behind the register saw my WIC checks and was visibly distraught. I took a deep breath and proceeded to put my items on the convayor belt. She about has a melt down and treats me like I am a piece of garbage. Then all of the sudden when I am paying for my non-WIC items, she completely transforms and I am just another customer that she is pleasantly chatting with. L was being her adorable self and was giving her huge smiles. She asked me if L was my only one, I took a deep breath and tried to be friendly. No, I replied, my other one is playing at the neighbors. Oh, and where is dad? she asks.

It was then that I realized I was still being judged. None of your god-damned business! was the first thing that came to mind. Somehow I manage to get through the transaction. I don't make it out of the parking lot before I break down into tears. I suppose I am a little hormonal. I can't wait to tell my guy about this one, when he gets home from working a 12 or 13 hour day out in the hot sun. He will go ballistic. heeheehee I guess I won't be going to WIC anymore.

And then, just as I walk in the door with my arms full of babies and groceries, the dog pukes on the carpet. I sure could use a drink.