Like last year’s Christmas stuff on the guest bed, so too are the days of my life.
I really want my blog back. And my life. I’m spinning so fast right now that I can’t keep up with anything. How do you moms do it? Is it just me?
If you’d allow me to whine for a moment (Please? I do it so well), I’d like to walk you through my day yesterday.
7AM-9AM: Wake up with both kids in our bed (Toots is convinced there’s going to be a tornado and is extremely anxious about it) (Booger goes wherever Toots is). Get kids dressed. Feed them. Make myself presentableish. Prepare lunches. Negotiate a sibling peace treaty. Take kids to school (Two different schools right across the street from each other, but along a route that must be walked. Up hills. Both ways.)
9:15-9:30AM: Get coffee. Must be Starbucks as I have not grocery shopped in eon moons and there is nothing edible or caffeinated inside my home. Breakfast for the kids was toast with toasted toast.
9:35AM-1:25PM: Editing. Editing. EDITING. GOOD GOD THE EDITING.
1:30PM: Pick Toots up from school. It was a minimum day. GOOD LORD THE MINIMUM DAYS.
1:32 and 10 secondsPM: Plan a play date for Toots. Agree to pick her up at 3:30PM.
1:32 and 40seconds-2:40PM: Walk uphill both ways back to my car parked the next county over because that’s the way Toots’ elementary school rolls. Drive to the grocery store. But first, take broken watch to be repaired. Grocery shop. Look for scallions. I’ve got a great lima bean recipe and I need the scallions. Are scallions the same thing as green onions? I can’t find lima beans.
2:42PM: Pick up watch. Now I can more effectively see time passing me by.
2:43-3:00PM: Drive with lima-bean-less groceries in car to Booger’s preschool. Pick her up. Unwittingly submerge self in thousand-foot-deep rain puddle.
3:05-3:20PM: Drive home, unload groceries, realize haven’t eaten lunch, dry self off. Exactly in that order.
3:30PM: Still don’t eat lunch, because I have to pick Toots up from her playdate and take her to karate class.
3:35PM: Arrive at playdate. Submerge self in 850-foot raindrop. Shrug shoulders. Weep softly into the wet crook of my elbow.
3:40-3:55PM: Drive to karate. Sit there. Squirm uncomfortably because I know there’s a big work deadline looming.
4:45-5:15PM: Pick up sandwiches from Subway. Finally eat. Drive home.
5:15-5:30PM: EDITING! GOOD GOD THE — well, you know the drill.
5:35PM: Take call from freelance gig. Gist? “Do you have 2-3 hours tonight for an urgent project?”
5:35 and 25 secondsPM: Manage my nervous breakdown.
5:40-6:30PM: Take instructions and emails and more instructions and more phone calls.
6:45PM: Begin urgent frack-a-lacka project. The Rock bathes the kids and puts them to bed. I am in a fugue state of exhaustion and self-pity.
6:45PM-11:30PM: Work on the “2-3-hour” last minute project.
11:45PM: Stare into space. Eat fritos. Wonder how I am going to continue my days at this pace. Consider that maybe I am being a baby.
11:46PM: After careful reflection, decide to be a baby. A large, fat, baby.
Please do tell: how do you all manage? It’s me, right? I’m too fragile, prone to fits?
I’m open to any and all life management tips and tricks. And if you’ve got extra wine laying about, I’m open to that too.