Feb. 25, 2010
Ok, ok. So I feel intrigued (as does my husband) to document my day, as my friend Anna did in her blog. However, mine must begin the night before.
11pm: I go to bed exhausted – watching the bobsled and the two accidents makes me tired. DH had to go back to work to get something so I was on my own most of the evening. My 7 yr old was feeling crappy all evening, and my 3 yr old had no nap so she was grumpy, too. Tonight, sold my old pack’n’play on craigslist to a couple that are having Yorkie puppies this week, and they need something for the mother to have the babies in. I don’t know how I feel about that. Oh well – it’s cash. DH has to stay up to work on a paper he’s submitting. Say good night, Gracie.
12:30am: Babycakes (8 ½ months, teething or clinically depressed as of late) wakes up. I bring her into bed with me. She nurses on and off for the next two hours. Finally sleeps.
2:30am: DH goes to bed, after having submitted his paper to peer review.
3:00am: Babycakes wakes up, doesn’t want to sleep. DH, however, desperately wants to. I take baby out to the den. Turn on the TV. Try to watch Letterman in sleepy state. Rock baby. Play patty cake and peekaboo. Several attempts to put her in her crib, and she wakes up, crying, sitting up each time I try. Pick her up, take her to the den. Replay previous 5 sentences several times.
5:06am: Baby is finally completely zonked. Put her in crib. Crawl into my bed. Thank heavens for electric blanket. Look at my dear, sleep-deprived husband. Think I’ll wake up with the kids this morning. Poor guy should sleep in.
6:09: Babycakes wakes up. Nudge hubby several times. Tell him baby is awake. Remind him I was up with her all night. His turn. Have kink in my neck. Go back to sleep.
7:22: My nine year old son wakes me up. Babycakes is in bed with me, awake pawing at my face, Husband is in the shower. It’s class picture day and son doesn’t know where the envelope is to put the money in. Panic. I panic because the shaggy boys desperately need haircuts and I meant to do it last night. I wake up with a start, realize that baby has spit up all over my shirt. Change shirts.
7:25: Knock on husband's shower door, 5 minutes to get him to his bus.
7:17: (Clock in kitchen different from one in bedroom): Start haircuts. Husband comes in. We decide he’ll catch the 8:00. He graciously cuts 7 yr old's hair while I’m cutting the 9 yr old's. DH says we should open a barber shop, call it Johnson and Johnson’s. No laugh. After haircuts, boys need a bath. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth at the thought of a bath before school. I love the idea of a shower -- haven't had one since (do the math) Monday. It's Thursday. Environmentally sound, but sanity- and sanitorily- disgusting. Decide if I want one, it'd better be before my husband leaves.
7:38: Check on boys in bath. Turn off water that is seering hot. 9 yr old says they need it warm because it’s such a cold morning. This kink in my neck might kill me.
7:41: Get on scale. Yikes. Decide to do the Apple Detox Diet for the next couple of days. Going to Boston in 2 weeks. Mental note: look up “Lose 20 lbs in 2 weeks diet” on internet when everyone goes to school.
7:42: Get in shower. No hot water. Of course, as the boys are enjoying a hot tub experience in the other room. Quickly shower (set world record). After that, reach to the towel, and I get husband’s wet cold one from a half hour ago. Look for another. Isn’t one. Mental note: Put some *&^! towels in this bathroom.
7:54!! Argh. Bedroom clock is still different than one in kitchen (funny no one has changed it). Which one is right? Have to get husband to the bus by 8. Get dressed into workout clothes. Hopefully this will help me workout today.
8:01: Take to bus. Three year old daughter has no socks, shoes or coat on. Lucky the van is in the garage.
8:05: We’re surprisingly not late for the bus that’s appx 1 mile away. Normally have to do a Jason Bourne-type car chase every morning to catch it. Drop him off. Kiss, bye, see you tonight.
8:10: Home. Think to start lunches but see DH did lunches already – Man is a saint. Notice it’s snowing. Grumble about freezing cold NM, but then realize we'll be visiting Boston soon and say quick prayer of thanks that it's 40 degrees instead of 0.
8:11: Get kids hair brushed, clean clothes for picture day. Handsome guys! Clean up breakfast. Plate of flat pancakes on counter. Yes! Stuff one in my mouth before wrapping up the rest and putting in fridge. Dang, forgot about apple detox. Detox tomorrow. Tomorrow is Friday – it’ll be an easier day. Tomorrow is always an easier day.
8:12: 7 year old is worried, doesn’t want to go to school because of his diarrhea last night. I try to calm him down, say it’s over and that he’ll be ok. “But it was so gross, Mom. It covered the toilet. It was like… poop sauce.” Mental note: Clean their bathroom as soon as they are at school. Glad I already had my breakfast. I assure him that if he gets sick he can come home, but I did not insist on hair cuts and baths this morning to let him stay home and miss class picture day. “Stay through pictures, then I’ll come get you if you need.” Another silent prayer, this time that he doesn’t get diarrhea before or during his pictures. After would be nice, too.
8:18: Realize that Babykins is still in transportable car seat in the kitchen from dropping Cort off. Isn’t happy. Tell my 7 year old son to cheer her up. He hands her a full bowl of Cheerios. (!?).
8:21: I clean up the Cheerios. One is in her ear, several are down her sleeper. She’s howling now. Have to keep her in the carseat or we’ll be late. Put some Baby Orajel on her gums, she starts sucking her thumb. Satisfied for the moment.
8:26: 7 yr old son, ecstatic. "Mommy! Come look in our room!" Room is clean, beds made. Children are cherubim. The boys raced to do it before school. Mucho kisses.
8:28: Neighbor girl comes over to walk with the boys to school. Ask her for her “picture envelope” to see what I should write on the blank envelopes I’m using. Thank heavens it says who to write the checks out to. Write checks.
8:30: I decide it’s too cold and I don’t want the boys wearing hats and schmushing their nice hair. Decide to drive all the kids to school. This time I find 3 yr old's socks, shoes and coat.
8:40: “We’re going to be late!” All load up in the van.
8:42: Drop off kids (we live 2 blocks from the school). 3 yr old's shouts out the door, “Don’t forget to spit out your gum!” 9 yr old: “I know, C. I know.”
8:50: We get home. DD wants to plan her 4th birthday party. I tell her it’s 10 months away. She says, “It’s ok. I don’t mind.” Rock baby to nap.
9:12: DH calls. He’s tired. Told him he should’ve taken a sick day. He says good bye, I say good night on accident. He’s jealous I may get a nap in.
9:15: Nap is a no-go. Clean house. Put dishes in dishwasher. Clean up breakfast table. Make beds. Vacuum because baby is crawling all over and puts everything she finds in her mouth. C follows me around. Clean the bathroom, but close her out of the room. She’s mad at me for this, and she should be grateful. Have gloves and Clorox wipes, but wish I had a Hazmat suit. C bangs on the door and talks to me from under the door until I’m done. Do I tell her I have my iPod on? No.
9:45: Babykins is still asleep. House is pretty good. C is watching PBS. Sit down, open scriptures. Eyes wander to 7 year old's homework. Decide to read “Commander Toad and the Space Pirates” instead.
10:02: Decide since it’s still snowing, no walking. Decide to check facebook. Fbltttthooop – time suck.
10:14: C’s hungry (for the first of about 100 times in the day). Happy with a yogurt.
10:18: C needs help going to the bathroom, which she usually doesn’t. She pulls the stepstool up, puts her “Carebears” potty on it. Wonder if she’s getting sick or something.
10:27: Babykins is still asleep. Put a workout DVD on. C does the workout with me, gets her wiggles out. We laugh as we are both uncoordinated but having a good time.
11:00: I’m in my bathroom. C knocks on the door. Sigh. Is one minute of alone time too much? “What, C?” “Are you going potty?” “Yes.” “There isn’t any toilet paper in there, Mommy. I was in there yesterday.” Look at the toilet paper holder. I finger the cardboard roll. Another sigh. A moment passes, then: “Mommy!! Mommy!!” “What, C?” Now I'm getting openly annoyed. “Open the door. I brought you some toilet paper from the closet.”
I don't know how to explain it. Some days are just really good days.urs of a day in the life.
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