7:15 am Wake up to the baby crawling onto my bladder. See that the three year old has also migrated to our bed and is sprawled across half the real estate. (Space is valuable on a queen size bed) Snuggle the baby until he wriggles away. Oh my goodness, he’s so sweet. And the girl is sleeping so peacefully!
7:30am Shuffle to the kitchen and make breakfast for myself and the baby- a muffin and banana for me, Cheerios and a banana for him, because he doesn’t like the nutritious muffins I made. Neither kid does. “But they are half fruit!” I say. I made a crucial error, though. . . Despite being pureed, you could still see blueberry skins. That’s a no-go. Scroll through Facebook while the baby noms on Cheerios. Think about making coffee. Ugh, my throat hurts. I drank grape juice yesterday. . . Am I allergic to grapes? No… Do I have a sulfite sensitivity? Better Google that. I probably do. No wonder I can’t drink wine.
8:00am Open the dishwasher and empty the utensils. The three year old wakes up and wants toast. Make the toast, notice all the crumbs on the floor after she eats, make a note to sweep later.
9:00am The dishwasher is still open, but it’s a good time to put a load of clothes in the washer because the kids are distracted by Beat Bugs. Load the washer. Walk back by the dishwasher and see it’s still open. Unload the bottom rack. Half of it makes it to its spot, half is on the counter near its spot because the baby is suddenly attached to my hip. I should probably go grab my carrier from the van. I need to save my back.
9:30am Baby needs a diaper change and three year old has to potty. Take care of business. Remember that you still have to put the exersaucer together after the baby spilled juice and you had to wash the seat (sidenote: no more drinks in the exersaucer). Put it back together, stick the baby in there. Sis needs a snack, so I sit her down with some Goldfish (she’s been sick, so she gets whatever sounds good besides milk, because I am not cleaning that situation up again if I can help it). Sweep around the table because there are crumbs everywhere from breakfast.
10:30am Baby needs a nap. Sing “Farmer in the Dell” about 5 times and he’s out. Jump in the shower while the three year old plays with my headbands. Thank goodness the baby still naps in the morning. Call about a bill that had a different amount on paper versus online. Call about getting a replacement top for the food processor. Oh man, I really need to do some continuing education. Can’t let my license expire. It’s okay, I have until next December. I’ll get to it later. Now would be a good time to make coffee. But we only have whole beans, so I don’t want to grind them when the baby sleeps. Maybe later.
11:30am Switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Stick another load in the washer because I’m totally going to get through all that folding tonight (I have big goals). The baby is fussing because he woke up and I was out of sight for 30 seconds. Pick him up and reassure him that I did not disappear. Carry him around while I figure out what to make for lunch.
12:10 pm The dishwasher is still open, but there’s lunch to make. Sandwiches and fruit make their way to the table. Three year old eats 5 pretzels and calls it good. The baby eats a piece of bread, cheese, a container of oranges, and a whole cup of milk and makes it look like I haven’t swept in days. Three year old asks me to play, but I need to pull stuff out for dinner. Gosh darnit, I could just figure it out later and play with her now. No. No. She needs to play independently. Let her get a little bored. But I feel guilty. . . we’ll do crafts together in a bit.
1:00pm Dinner goes in the crockpot with fingers crossed that it’s halfway decent. The kids probably won’t eat it, but my husband will. Craft time with the three year old (drawing, construction paper, glue). Clean up craft time with the three year old while holding the baby, because he is convinced he must make contact verbally or physically every 30 seconds some days. Why isn’t he this clingy when other people are around?
2:00pm Shoot. The dishwasher is still open. Okay, unload the top rack, get most of it where it goes, but a few stragglers here and there just stay on the counter near their final destination. I’ll get it later. It’s hard to stack things with only one free hand. Walk into our bedroom and see my stack of clothes that I didn’t put away last night because the kids wouldn’t sleep. I’ll get it later. Walk back to the kitchen and load a couple cups in the dishwasher. Finally close it. The baby needs a short nap. Put him down and he sleep long enough for me to wipe down the table. Oh maybe some coffee would be nice. No, I’m not going to grind the beans while he sleeps.
3:00pm The kids need snacks. Remember that the three year old spilled yogurt on a blanket in the living room last night (no more food on the couch!) and go grab it to put in the laundry. They still need snacks. Get them food and drinks and sit them at the table. Oh, they are being so sweet, better take a picture and send it to my husband. Scroll through social media. Make a note to actually participate in my blog groups today. Make a note of new post ideas. Oh my gosh, there’s so much I don’t know. I’m already so behind. No, stop, everyone starts somewhere. I didn’t do this to get stressed out.
3:30pm Clean the baby off because he smeared yogurt in his hair. Step around the piles of the next-size clothing I’m sorting through to grab more diapers out of his closet. Make a mental note to send a thank you note to the cousin who passed on their boys’ clothes. Try to figure out what he may be lacking for this winter. See the living room is covered in toys. Turn right back around and leave it there.
3:45pm Text husband asking when he’ll be home. He says “normal time,” so I start the countdown in my head to 5:30 because that’s my best guess most days. Dinner’s in the crock pot, so I have some leeway. I hope it’s filling enough and we don’t end up grazing on snacks all night. I have got to get a better plan for healthy snacks.
4:00pm “Mom, can I watch a show?” Sure, we’ll watch a show until Daddy gets home. The baby crawls around, playing with toys, taking the remote, crying when I take the remote back and put it out of reach. Switch laundry. Start folding a load, but the kids keep pulling stuff out of the basket. Take the basket to my bedroom. I’ll get to it later. The kids are getting restless, but it’s too cold for a walk. Turn on Pandora and have a dance party. Oh my gosh, they are so much fun. Why didn’t I do this earlier? Dancing wins everything.
5:30pm (ish…) Husband walks through the door. “DADDDDDYYYY!” Get dinner ready and on the table for everyone while he wrangles the kiddos.
5:45pm The baby alternates between spilling his milk and smashing food. Conversation is broken around the three year old’s interjections and constantly checking the baby to make sure he didn’t shove a whole piece of bread in his mouth (He probably did). Clean up the table, high chair, and floor. The kids and husband go to the living room or the three year old’s room to play for a bit. What a whirlwind. Did everyone eat enough? Drink enough? They’ll all want more food in like ten minutes. Guaranteed.
6:30pm Fold a bit of laundry, scroll aimlessly on my phone, clean up the kitchen a little. Go join the kids and husband. Aww, they’re all so funny together. I’m glad he is so good with them. Start thinking about tomorrow’s schedule. Real talk… When am I going to shower in the next 24 hours?
7:30pm Baby starts rubbing his eyes. One last snack, then off to bed. PJ’s, cuddles, and rocking to sleep. Husband takes care of daughter’s bedtime routine. Ugh, why is she whining so much? Please put her in seasonally appropriate PJs tonight. I’m going to stay in here until she’s in bed and can’t see me sneak down the hallway.
8:15pm Baby is asleep, but three year old is upset. She just wants mommy. She’s been sick, so she’s extra needy. End up doing her bedtime routine, even reading her story because she didn’t want me to leave. It’s so nice to be needed. But on the other hand… I have so much to do.
9:00pm Three year old has had her story and I leave her in the room with my husband. She won’t fall asleep alone.
Head back to my room and fold laundry. Put my laundry away and leave my husband’s on his side of the bed. Work on blog stuff.
10:30pm Husband shuffles back to our room after he fell asleep on daughter’s floor because he had to get up so early today. I keep working on the computer. He gets ready for bed. Baby starts fussing, so I go give him his pacifier and pat him until he falls back asleep. For the love of everything good, please sleep through the night for once.
11:00pm I finally shut the computer and get ready for bed. Go do one last check on the kids, because I can’t sleep if I don’t. Oh, look how precious little guy is. Sis grows two inches in her sleep every night. When did she turn into a little girl instead of a toddler? Aw, I miss them. Can’t wait to play tomorrow.
Sometime in the night, the baby wakes up. I shuffle to his room and just bring him back to our room so I can go back to sleep faster. At some unknown time, the girl climbs into our bed. She’s a good snuggler. Lay awake because the baby keeps moving, the husband is snoring, and the daughter keeps breathing really deeply and I’m convinced she’s going to get sick again. Why are they all so noisy? Grab my phone and scroll through assorted articles and pictures until I get sleepy again. I should go sleep in the girl’s bed and let them sleep here.
A few hours later, husband gets up for work, tells me bye, and leaves before I actually wake up. Thank you for not fully waking me up and accepting my mumbles as acknowledgement that I heard you.
7:15am Wake up to the baby crawling over me.
. . .
The days may be mundane sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Sometimes, I get to the end of the day and think, “what did I do?” Some days, I have some really great answers, like “reorganizing the living room” or “went to the library and the park.” But other days, I feel like I didn’t “accomplish” anything until I think about every tiny little thing I did with the kids all day. Some days, my husband will say “Gimme the run down, how was your day? What did you guys do?” and all I can think of to say is, “Well, we ate things. We played things. We made it until bedtime with everyone intact.”
I just have to remember that the real answer to “What did I do all day?” is: “I raised the kids the best I could today. And that’s enough.”