A Day in the Life

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. Cort had to go back to work to get something so I was on my own most of the evening. Elliot was feeling crappy all evening, and Claire 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. Cort has to stay up to work on a paper he’s submitting. Say good night, Gracie.

12:30am: Charlotte (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: Cort goes to bed, after having submitted his paper to peer review.

3:00am: Charlotte wakes up, doesn’t want to sleep. Cort, however, desperately wants to. I take her out to the den. Turn on the TV. Try to watch Letterman in sleepy state. Rock Charlotte. 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: Charlotte 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: Charlotte wakes up. Nudge Cort several times. Tell him Charlotte is awake. I was up with her all night. His turn. Have kink in my neck. Go back to sleep.

7:22: Ethan (9) wakes me up. Charlotte is in bed with me, awake pawing at my face, Cort is in the shower. It’s class picture day and he 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, realize that Charlotte has spit up all over my shirt. Change shirts.

7:25: Knock on Cort’s shower door, 5 minutes to get him to his bus.

7:17: (Clock in kitchen different from one in bedroom): Start haircuts. Cort comes in. We decide he’ll catch the 8:00. He graciously cuts Elliot’s hair while I’m cutting Ethan’s. Cort says we should open a barber shop, call it Johnson and Johnson’s. All have a chuckle. 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. Gross. Decide if I want one, it'd better be before Cort leaves.

7:38: Check on boys in bath. Turn off water that is seering hot. Ethan 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.

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 (WR). After that, reach to the towel, and I get Cort’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 different than one in kitchen. Which one is right? Have to get Cort to the bus by 8. Get dressed into workout clothes. Hopefully this will help me workout today.

8:01: Take Cort to bus. Claire 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. Start lunches. Cort did lunches already – Man is a saint. Notice it’s snowing. Grumble about cold Albuquerque.

8:15: 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.

8:16: Elliot 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.” Silent prayer that he doesn’t get diarrhea before or during his pictures.

8:18: Charlotte is still in car seat from dropping Cort off. Isn’t happy. Tell Elliot 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: Elliot, ecstatic. "Mommy! Come look in our room!" Room is clean, beds made. Children are cherubim. Ethan and he 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 Claire’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). Claire shouts out the door, “Ethan, don’t forget to spit out your gum!” Ethan: “I know, Claire. I know.”

8:50: We get home. Claire 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 Charlotte to nap.

9:12: Cort calls. He’s tired. Told him he should’ve taken a sick day. He says good bye, I say good night, Freudianly. 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 Charlotte is crawling all over and puts everything she finds in her mouth. Claire 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. Claire 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: Charlotte is still asleep. House is pretty good. Claire is watching PBS. Sit down, open scriptures. Eyes wander to Elliot’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: Claire’s hungry (for the first of about 100 times in the day). Happy with a yogurt.

10:18: Claire 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: Charlotte is still asleep. Put a workout DVD on. Claire does the workout, too, gets her wiggles out. We laugh as we are both uncoordinated but having a good time.

11:00: I’m in my bathroom. Claire knocks on the door. Sigh. One minute of alone time too much? “What, Claire?” “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. Empty. Another sigh. A moment passes, then: “Mommy?” “What, Claire?” “Open the door. I brought you some toilet paper from the closet.” I love having my girl.

I could go on and on. Well, actually I can’t. Because furtively writing on a scratch pad isn’t really working for me. But there it is – 12 hours of a day in the life.