So what was YOUR day like?
I’ve been inspired by certain cool, cool, and very cool (had to come back and add Mo-Wo, who my mommybrain had temporarily neglected to remember--sorry, wo) kids who have recorded all their activities on a given day; I felt like their posts gave me such insight as to what it is that SAHMs do that writing one might help me answer the question “So what did YOU do all day today?”
So here it is.
5:30 AM D wakes, fussing. I sigh, remembering that he awoke at the exact. same. time. yesterday, and when we finally got him up at 6:30, he was UNBEARABLE, screaming all through breakfast and generally being such a pain in the rear that he went down for a nap at 8:45. So this morning, we decide to wait it out. After the initial fussing, he calms and begins babbling to himself, fussing again every 10 minutes or so to test the waters and see if now, NOW is it time to get up?
6:00 D is quiet—probably sleeping. Daddymatic also sleeping. In a rare moment of coincidence, so are the cats. Mommymatic is the only one still awake.
6:45 I finally fall back to sleep.
7:15 D wakes again, happy and chatty. No fussing, which means he finally got enough sleep. I go into get him, and I remember why this is my favorite part of the day—he’s happy, smiley, cute. Such a morning person. Worse, he’s threatening to turn me into one.
7:25 Breakfast. I have little appetite, since I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I just have half an English muffin and a cup of tea. Normally, I’d follow that with some turkey bacon and several Tastykakes, but like I said: I'm off my feed.
I make Daddymatic some coffee. The moral of this story is when you take care of me and D (which daddy did yesterday) when I’m under the weather, I let you sleep in and will make you coffee the next day. As long as I can keep up with D. This child LOVES breakfast—he eats a ton (waffle with yogurt on it, turkey sausage, scrambled egg, half a banana and some canned pears, yum yum) and is happy, happy, happy about it. He reminds me of the Jonathan Richman song: “I eat with gusto! Damn, you bet!”
8:00 Bottle and diaper change. D commences running around the living room, opening up his tunnel, playing with blocks, and having me read books. I ask him if he seriously doesn’t know yet how Dinosaur’s Binkit ends, as we have read it several hundred times. This morning.
8:30 Daddymatic gets up. I am reminded that he needs to take our car in for its woefully overdue inspection, so I fix him a quick lunch while he gets ready.
9:15 Daddymatic leaves. We watch him out the window, which produces some consternation on D’s part. Not unlike a dog, however, he is quickly distracted from his grief by a toy car, a tennis ball, or the vaccum cleaner.
9:30 I remember that we need to go to the post office, and since it’s close by, I decide that we’ll take the hateful stroller. The MomHair is not doing well, so I get in the tub for a quick wash. D sticks his hands under the faucet and we wash them. He also dumps most of his tub toys in to keep me company.
10:00 Daisy-fresh and blown-dry, we leave the house only to discover two things: One, that the stroller is, of course, in the car. Which is being inspected. I also remember that my wallet is in the carseat because I let D play with it yesterday. I utter several off-limits curse words with fervor and zeal. I then call Daddymatic and utter same curse words to him.
10:02 Change Go To Post Office Plan to Play Outside Plan. D digs in dirt, finds “treasures” (rocks, pine cones, burrs, bottlecaps, other random unidentified bits I’d rather not think too deeply about), carries them about, does several laps around the house. For some reason, I decide it might be fun to blow up D’s inflatable dinosaur pool from last summer. I get halfway through before realizing I can no longer feel my hands. I stop.
11:00 Return inside for lunch. I note that there is decidedly less vigor in D’s eating, probably because of all the yawning he’s doing.
11:30 Diaper change. Avec poop. I signal naptime by closing the curtains, grabbing lambie and a paci, turning on the humidifer (also known by its common name, The Worthless Piece of Crap) and giving it a smack so it sounds less like a dripping-water-torture-machine meets-small-helicopter and more like a noise-masking Nap Soundtrack. And voila, we have naptime. D and I have a deal: At nap, I sing three songs while holding him in my lap. If he can manage to fall asleep before I’m done, so much the better. If not, he goes into the crib anyway for “quiet time.” This day, he barely makes it through the second song before he’s out.
12:15 Daddymatic returns with the car. And my wallet. And the stroller. He returns to school in the other car while I read, clean up a little, eat some saltines. M, the striped tabby, curls up on my chest for a brief nap.
1:45 D wakes, happy and chatty. We have a snack, another diaper change, a little more milling around in the apartment.
2:30 We go back outside. I finish blowing up the pool. Sparky, the friendly neighborhood beagle who lives downstairs, comes out to bestow kisses and be granted some cinnamon graham crackers. We all hang out a little.
3:30 Finally retrieve the loathsome stroller and wallet from the car and head to the post office. We see a horse on the way and stop to pet it. D is enthralled, but perhaps that is because he thinks it’s just the biggest cat he’s ever seen.
4:15 Daddymatic arrives home. We chat while D brings us treasures and squalls when said treasures get stuck inside a flowerpot.
4:45, I hand D over since I have a conference call to make. Daddymatic makes ready to take D to the park, and I drop heavy hints about how I’d love a coke and some fries, which signals to Daddymatic that I am ready to join the land of eating again.
5:35 The boys arrive home, buoyant but starving. D eats massive amounts again—deli ham, carrots, green beans, a whole wheat pancake, toast, apples. I surreptitiously eat fries in the living room while Daddymatic cooks dinner.
6:15 D poops, so I decide to go ahead and bathe him and get him ready for bed while Daddymatic finishes making dinner.
6:30 D discovers a bar of soap, which distracts him from his first love for several minutes. Eventually, of course, he rediscovers the drain plug. Bath over.
6:45 Freshly diapered, lotioned and pajamaed, my clean-faced little guy cavorts around the living room for a few minutes while I clean the Worthless Piece of Crap from D’s room and get it fully functional. Repeat getting-ready-for-bed exercises from naptime, only for nighttime, we repeat Guess How Much I Love You? and Good Night, Moon (sorry, GGC) from memory and sing a song, tell him his daddy and I and his grandparents and aunts and God all love him, and say a prayer. He’s asleep by the time I put him in his crib.
7:00 Daddymatic and I eat a peaceful dinner. We retire to the couch, where I watch way too much TV while checking blogs and email and forget completely about the dishes, the diapers that need to be washed, and the fact that I promised to go to bed early this night.
11:00 I remember dishes. Curse myself for forgetting them. Curse us for using dishes in the first place. Curse the cats for not helping out. Curse the fact that cats have no opposable thumbs. Reconsider last item and realize it’s probably a good thing.
11:30 Decide I need a small snack (since, you know, the dishes are now done). Read for a while and finally retire to bed with my book.
12:31 Daddymatic nudges me to turn the light off, as I’ve been sleeping with it on for approximately 20 minutes.
And you thought my dissertation was boring, huh, Bee-bee?
So here it is.
5:30 AM D wakes, fussing. I sigh, remembering that he awoke at the exact. same. time. yesterday, and when we finally got him up at 6:30, he was UNBEARABLE, screaming all through breakfast and generally being such a pain in the rear that he went down for a nap at 8:45. So this morning, we decide to wait it out. After the initial fussing, he calms and begins babbling to himself, fussing again every 10 minutes or so to test the waters and see if now, NOW is it time to get up?
6:00 D is quiet—probably sleeping. Daddymatic also sleeping. In a rare moment of coincidence, so are the cats. Mommymatic is the only one still awake.
6:45 I finally fall back to sleep.
7:15 D wakes again, happy and chatty. No fussing, which means he finally got enough sleep. I go into get him, and I remember why this is my favorite part of the day—he’s happy, smiley, cute. Such a morning person. Worse, he’s threatening to turn me into one.
7:25 Breakfast. I have little appetite, since I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I just have half an English muffin and a cup of tea. Normally, I’d follow that with some turkey bacon and several Tastykakes, but like I said: I'm off my feed.
I make Daddymatic some coffee. The moral of this story is when you take care of me and D (which daddy did yesterday) when I’m under the weather, I let you sleep in and will make you coffee the next day. As long as I can keep up with D. This child LOVES breakfast—he eats a ton (waffle with yogurt on it, turkey sausage, scrambled egg, half a banana and some canned pears, yum yum) and is happy, happy, happy about it. He reminds me of the Jonathan Richman song: “I eat with gusto! Damn, you bet!”
8:00 Bottle and diaper change. D commences running around the living room, opening up his tunnel, playing with blocks, and having me read books. I ask him if he seriously doesn’t know yet how Dinosaur’s Binkit ends, as we have read it several hundred times. This morning.
8:30 Daddymatic gets up. I am reminded that he needs to take our car in for its woefully overdue inspection, so I fix him a quick lunch while he gets ready.
9:15 Daddymatic leaves. We watch him out the window, which produces some consternation on D’s part. Not unlike a dog, however, he is quickly distracted from his grief by a toy car, a tennis ball, or the vaccum cleaner.
9:30 I remember that we need to go to the post office, and since it’s close by, I decide that we’ll take the hateful stroller. The MomHair is not doing well, so I get in the tub for a quick wash. D sticks his hands under the faucet and we wash them. He also dumps most of his tub toys in to keep me company.
10:00 Daisy-fresh and blown-dry, we leave the house only to discover two things: One, that the stroller is, of course, in the car. Which is being inspected. I also remember that my wallet is in the carseat because I let D play with it yesterday. I utter several off-limits curse words with fervor and zeal. I then call Daddymatic and utter same curse words to him.
10:02 Change Go To Post Office Plan to Play Outside Plan. D digs in dirt, finds “treasures” (rocks, pine cones, burrs, bottlecaps, other random unidentified bits I’d rather not think too deeply about), carries them about, does several laps around the house. For some reason, I decide it might be fun to blow up D’s inflatable dinosaur pool from last summer. I get halfway through before realizing I can no longer feel my hands. I stop.
11:00 Return inside for lunch. I note that there is decidedly less vigor in D’s eating, probably because of all the yawning he’s doing.
11:30 Diaper change. Avec poop. I signal naptime by closing the curtains, grabbing lambie and a paci, turning on the humidifer (also known by its common name, The Worthless Piece of Crap) and giving it a smack so it sounds less like a dripping-water-torture-machine meets-small-helicopter and more like a noise-masking Nap Soundtrack. And voila, we have naptime. D and I have a deal: At nap, I sing three songs while holding him in my lap. If he can manage to fall asleep before I’m done, so much the better. If not, he goes into the crib anyway for “quiet time.” This day, he barely makes it through the second song before he’s out.
12:15 Daddymatic returns with the car. And my wallet. And the stroller. He returns to school in the other car while I read, clean up a little, eat some saltines. M, the striped tabby, curls up on my chest for a brief nap.
1:45 D wakes, happy and chatty. We have a snack, another diaper change, a little more milling around in the apartment.
2:30 We go back outside. I finish blowing up the pool. Sparky, the friendly neighborhood beagle who lives downstairs, comes out to bestow kisses and be granted some cinnamon graham crackers. We all hang out a little.
3:30 Finally retrieve the loathsome stroller and wallet from the car and head to the post office. We see a horse on the way and stop to pet it. D is enthralled, but perhaps that is because he thinks it’s just the biggest cat he’s ever seen.
4:15 Daddymatic arrives home. We chat while D brings us treasures and squalls when said treasures get stuck inside a flowerpot.
4:45, I hand D over since I have a conference call to make. Daddymatic makes ready to take D to the park, and I drop heavy hints about how I’d love a coke and some fries, which signals to Daddymatic that I am ready to join the land of eating again.
5:35 The boys arrive home, buoyant but starving. D eats massive amounts again—deli ham, carrots, green beans, a whole wheat pancake, toast, apples. I surreptitiously eat fries in the living room while Daddymatic cooks dinner.
6:15 D poops, so I decide to go ahead and bathe him and get him ready for bed while Daddymatic finishes making dinner.
6:30 D discovers a bar of soap, which distracts him from his first love for several minutes. Eventually, of course, he rediscovers the drain plug. Bath over.
6:45 Freshly diapered, lotioned and pajamaed, my clean-faced little guy cavorts around the living room for a few minutes while I clean the Worthless Piece of Crap from D’s room and get it fully functional. Repeat getting-ready-for-bed exercises from naptime, only for nighttime, we repeat Guess How Much I Love You? and Good Night, Moon (sorry, GGC) from memory and sing a song, tell him his daddy and I and his grandparents and aunts and God all love him, and say a prayer. He’s asleep by the time I put him in his crib.
7:00 Daddymatic and I eat a peaceful dinner. We retire to the couch, where I watch way too much TV while checking blogs and email and forget completely about the dishes, the diapers that need to be washed, and the fact that I promised to go to bed early this night.
11:00 I remember dishes. Curse myself for forgetting them. Curse us for using dishes in the first place. Curse the cats for not helping out. Curse the fact that cats have no opposable thumbs. Reconsider last item and realize it’s probably a good thing.
11:30 Decide I need a small snack (since, you know, the dishes are now done). Read for a while and finally retire to bed with my book.
12:31 Daddymatic nudges me to turn the light off, as I’ve been sleeping with it on for approximately 20 minutes.
And you thought my dissertation was boring, huh, Bee-bee?
posted by the stefanie formerly known as stefanierj at 8:33 PM
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