Diary of a Working Mom

After being off for 8 months, I forgot how hectic life can be as a working mom. I’m not complaining (yet)–I’m laughing instead. 🙂 Here’s a snapshot of my day:

5:00am-alarm goes off. Accidentally snooze too long. Roll out of bed at 5:30 and hobble to shower after nursing stubborn baby who wasn’t ready to eat yet, but who was wide awake in his crib. Announce that I will start taking my showers at night. Drag husband and daughter out of bed at 6:00. Daughter pulls covers over head and insists she is not going to school today. Finish getting ready, gathering all of our stuff, and making bottles. Make it out the door at 6:45, thanks to my husband, who is helping straight from the shower wearing only a bath towel. Evie tells him he can’t come outside to put her in the car because he looks like a dork. I think he looks kind of hot.
7:00am-drop off kids at day care. More efficient operation than yesterday, as I know where each child goes in the morning–Eli goes to Evie’s teacher and Evie goes to the preschool breakfast room. Evie’s best friend (also 4 years old) insists she will open Evie’s yogurt for her as I set up Evie’s breakfast.
7:20am-roll into school with coffee and approximately 15 bags of teacher necessities in hand. Begin meetings. Meetings were productive and beneficial. Shout out to the school district for putting together a decent inservice.
Noon-enjoy lunch with colleagues at local Mexican restaurant. Yum. After today, there will be no more lunches off-campus. Head back to school to work in classroom, complete online training modules re: bloodborne pathogens, sexual harassment, and other fun things. Meet with special education supervisor and colleagues. Work in classroom some more.
3:45pm-leave school to pick up kids. Evie cries because she doesn’t want to go home. Eli was happy to see me, at least.
4:30-arrive home. Attempt to nurse baby after going all day without pumping–too many people in and out and no key yet to lock door so I can pump. I’m in pain. He doesn’t care–he’s not interested. Decide to pump instead. Realize I left pump at school. Evie chases dogs around house trying to get them to play with her in her room. They won’t cooperate, but one destroys a diaper he found in Eli’s trash can. Awesome. Evie comes downstairs in dress-up clothes and refuses to change to make a trip to the store. I have pictures to pick up and a few more teacher things to get. She goes in her princess costume.
5:30pm-enter dreaded big blue department store. Bad idea. The place is swarming with people stocking up on last minute school supplies. Make about 32 laps around the store searching for a fan and the photo center. Why isn’t the photo center in the same place in all dreaded big blue stores?? Evie falls asleep on toilet paper in back of cart and has meltdown when I wake her up to pay for it (after standing in line for 20 minutes).
7:00pm-come home to feed kids and begin bedtime routine. 4-year old refuses to eat her dinner (that I actually cooked). Dogs decide they can help her. She scolds them. I don’t get it–she doesn’t want it but doesn’t want to share. Remember to take out frozen breast milk and Evie’s lunch for tomorrow (success on both accounts). Feed baby. He cries between each bite because I’m not feeding him fast enough. Attempt to give him his evening meds. He takes the one he usually spits out without incident. The one he usually takes just fine comes spraying out of his mouth in all of its tar-colored, root-beer-flavored glory. Fail.
8:00pm-bath time, much later than I had planned. 4-year old demands a “shower bath.” After bathing the baby, I relent. Get baby in bed and go back to help Evie finish. Lean forward and bust the zipper on my shorts. Damn. I love these stupid shorts. 4-year old doesn’t want to cooperate at bedtime. I get her digital clock, which reads 8:31, and tell her she has until it reads 8:40 to finish getting ready for bed. She jumps on her bed instead–and flips backwards onto the hardwood floor. Wailing ensues and she tells me she needs to go to the “hopspital.” Manage to tuck her in and read story by 8:37. Lights out. Come downstairs to let dogs out. Sit with them outside so one doesn’t make a jailbreak. Get eaten alive by mosquitoes. Come inside to find Evie on the landing crying that she wants to be with me. Coaxing, bribing, and insisting doesn’t work. She will not go back to bed. Knock on the door. Dogs go nuts. I am wearing my shorts with the busted zipper. Thank God it’s a friend dropping off something I left at her house and checking in about school. She’s my workout buddy, but I haven’t made it to the Y for the last 2 days. Finally get Evie set up on the couch. Her a banging noise on dining room door. Investigate. Open door to an awful smell. It’s the dog’s breath. And she has a giant rock she managed to sneak inside, apparently to bang against the door. I detect another funky smell. The other dog has gas. His farts are rancid. Take dogs back outside because I enjoy being bitten by mosquitoes more than I enjoy cleaning up dog poop in the house. Dogs decide not to come inside. They want to chase each other instead.
9:26pm-realize I never did get around to any of that laundry I told my husband I would be working on. Dishes are still in the sink. Living room needs to be straightened up. Decide it won’t hurt anything if I skip my chores tonight, realizing I will regret that decision tomorrow. Think about what to wear for the first day of school. Make no decisions but determine that I have clean underwear. Think about my earlier declaration re: showering at night. Realize I was full of it. Prepare for bed. Alarm will be going off at 4:30am–must beat the morning rush of students.



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