Yesterday was a doozy, folks.
The night time was a bit rough (shorter stretches between feeding Emmett than we’ve had for the last few days), but that was the least of my worries. Benjamin said goodbye in the morning and headed out to drop Owen at school before leaving for work. Upon leaving and seeing our neighbors’ trash cans, he texted me to say that it was trash day and could I put the trash out? No problem, I thought. After I fed Emmett I put him on his activity mat, collected the trash and went outside to put our trash out.
We keep our trash in our garage, right outside the door from our hallway off the kitchen. That makes it super easy to take the kitchen trash out… and makes what I’m about to tell you even more disgusting.
I guess we had put a bag of kitchen trash out there a few days ago without securing it in the trash bin. And since it’s been so hot there have been a lot of flies around. I’m sure you can see where this is going… when I moved the trash bag to put it in the bin, MAGGOTS POURED OUT. And I don’t just mean a few. I mean hundreds. Thousands. It was like that scene from Indiana Jones with the snakes. They were crawling out of the bag and hitting the floor and scattering ALL OVER OUR GARAGE. I was, stupidly, wearing only flip flops (thank goodness I at least had those on… often I do this task barefoot. ::Shudder::) and I do not do well with massive amounts of bugs. Sure, give me a spider or centipede or something. I can handle it. But thousands of tiny maggots that looked like rice pouring out of my trash and into an extension of my house? I freaked.
I full-body shuddered uncontrollably and tried not to throw up as I threw the bag across the garage (aiming for the open door, but my throw didn’t go nearly far enough, so all I succeeded in doing was moving the maggot-spewing bag into a different part of the garage.
I peered into our trash can and saw them crawling in and out of every bag in there. Up the side of the can. Falling off the side. Gag gag gag.
I kicked off my flip flops and jumped inside, unsure of what to do next. Just ignore them? Probably not wise. So I suited up with rain boots and rubber gloves and went to work. I stomped them and vacuumed them. I got up the courage to roll the trash can outside and kicked it over, dumping the maggots unto a corner of our garden. Gag gag gag.
Long story not-so-short, I got rid of the maggots. (Aka I am superwoman). I went back into the house completely skeeved out and feeling like bugs were crawling all over me only to find my sweet baby had passed out on his activity mat in front of the Today Show. Parenting fail.
After a long, scalding hot shower to kill the invisible maggots all over me, Emmett and I headed to the grocery store. I remembered the carrier (score!) and he slept peacefully while I shopped. At checkout I was getting my workout squatting with him in the carrier to lift my groceries out of the cart and onto the conveyor belt, and a bottle of salad dressing spontaneously combusted and splattered all over my leg, the magazine rack and the rest of my groceries in the cart.
Clean up in aisle 5!
After driving home with salad dressing all over my leg (and those same flip flops that I wear every day, all the time), it was time to put the groceries away, feed Emmett and head back out for my 6 week postpartum visit with my midwife.
Oh joy. Just what I wanted to do on this doozy of a day… have my still-healing postpartum ladyparts examined. As it turns out, I adore my midwife (almost enough to have another baby so I can see her every week!) so it wasn’t all bad. But still. It didn’t exactly turn the day around. She said I healed beautifully, but I’m still experiencing a lot of bleeding that really should be gone (or majorly tapering) by now. Thankfully looking at old blog posts helped me remember that the same thing happening after I had Owen (still bleeding pretty heavily after 6 weeks postpartum, which prompted us to do bloodwork and some other tests, but then it stopped on its own around 7.5 or 8 weeks), so this time around I’m not worried. Yet.
From maggots to salad dressing all over myself and my groceries to an internal exam mere weeks after having a baby. That, my friends, was a doozy.
Before crawling into bed I made sure to do one thing: order a new pair of flip flops.