Come one, come all--to the working mom's juggling act that is my life. Will I survive the day? No ticket needed so sit back, relax and read on to find out...
It was a cold and overcast February morning. They had called for a 1/2" of snow overnight so I look outside, hoping for a 2 hour delay because I'm still recovering from the Super Bowl. Not a hangover, by any stretch of the imagination--I just can't handle staying up past my 9:00 bedtime. Drat, not a single, solitary flake so there was no climbing back into bed for me!
Get ready for work. Ack! I forgot to tell my co-workers that my Kindergartener's teacher had requested a conference this morning so I email them to tell them I'd be late. Whew -- that's taken care of.
Finish getting dressed, make my coffee and throw a frozen meal in my bag as I kiss Mr. Fab and the two babies goodbye.
Walk the girls into school, looking fabulous as I walk down the elementary school hallway in my pink heels while texting a friend at work that I would be late. She worries when I don't show up on time, God bless her. "May I help you ma'am?" said one of the teachers as she was walking into her classroom. I must've looked out of place. "No, I'm just here for a meeting with her teacher" as I point to my Kindergartener who was making a bee line for her classroom.
Meet with her teacher, Miss K, who is sweet and demure as can be and says that my little blessing is doing wonderfully. Good to know, I had to come in why....
Rush off to work, chugging my now lukewarm coffee. Get to work and work for the man all day. Joy. Towards the end of the day Mr. Fab instant messages me to let me know that the 5 year old had sucked on her arm so badly that she gave herself a hickey and the 8 year old had gotten in trouble at school with some new kid and he threatened to kill her. Lovely! Note to self: pack more lunch for the 5 year old, she must be hungry if she's resorting to sucking on her arm.
Come home just in time for Mr. Fab to take the older two to soccer practice. Yes, dear reader---they practice in the middle of winter. He gives me the homework, diaper and feeding status for everyone and rushes off. Supposedly the baby had just eaten a 1/2 hour ago but she insisted on nursing. I guess she missed me.
Walk into the kitchen to start dinner only to find a sink full of dishes, mostly bowls that we would need for tonight's dinner. Wonderful. I'm guessing dishes weren't on Mr. Fab's agenda for today. I don't blame him -- he's taking care of two children under 2, one of which he's trying to potty train. Then the other three blessings come home and he oversees their homework before rushing off to soccer practice. Oh and don't forget he's looking for a job and every employer these days requires you to go through their ridiculous website so each job application takes a 1/2 hour. And Heaven forbid one of the blessings needs his attention and he has to leave said application because when he comes back to finish, his session has timed out and he has to start all over again.
So dishes were not a priority. No worries, I got this. I load the dishwasher while breaking up mini 'fights' between the 5 and 2 year old while the baby swings happily in her swing in the kitchen. Start our spaghetti dinner and the baby starts fussing. Now what?? She's so needy!! I try to plug her with a pacifier and reassure her I'm right there but she's not convinced. Make the bottles for tomorrow and finally pick her up and hold her, while breaking up the meat that's cooking for the sauce.
Keep in mind, dear reader, that I'm still in my fabulous pink heels. So I'm standing there at the stove, ignoring the pain in my back and feet, holding the baby and stirring my sauce when I hear screaming. I go to the bottom of the stairs and bellow "WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?!" to the 5 and 2 year old. Not one of my finer mommy moments but fine mommy moments are few and far between. Apparently the 2 year old wanted to blow bubbles and the 5 year old was trying to convince her that indoors is not the best place. Hence, the screaming. So I tell them to come downstairs, which upsets the 2 year old who decides to scream-cry while walking down the steps...with her eyes closed. I can't help her, I'm still holding the baby. The 5 year old tries to help but that's not really help. She makes it down safely and they proceed to play "office" with a lone keyboard and mouse they had found.
Check my email with the baby's "help"...
|Mommy, you've got mail!|
... nurse the fussy baby again while dinner boils over. Yay, overcooked pasta! The 3 of us snarf dinner down before the baby starts fussing again, as it's getting close to her witching hour....that time in the day when nothing will soothe her but being wrapped in her sleep sack and put in bed.
I change the babies while giving step by step instructions to the 5 year old on how to get ready for bed. Apparently she's forgotten since the night before. Pause to take a picture of the sweet little babies...
|All ready for bed!|
...then turn out the lights and nurse the baby...again. Ahhh peace and quiet. Not for long. I hear a gentle tapping on my door. Apparently the 5 year old's nightlight wasn't working so I told her to turn the hall light on to guide her to sweet, sweet slumber.
Baby Sweetie fell asleep so I put her down in her bassinet and go sit with Big Sweetie until she goes to sleep. This is what we do every night because otherwise she'd have the rule of the room and get into things. So I sit with her until she's asleep. She's tossing, she's turning for an hour ... no biggie.
Then Mr. Fab and the older two blessings come home from soccer practice. It sounded like they brought the cavalry with them--there was pot banging, loud talking, yelling from the stairs. Hey, guys--don't mind the sleeping babies!!! Mr. Fab walks into the room and says hi, kisses Big Sweetie Pie goodnight and proceeds to tell me that the 8 year old managed to get her school project done by getting 100 people to sign a piece of paper. This couldn't wait? Baby Sweetie Pie wakes up and Mr. Fab goes downstairs to eat his re-heated spaghetti. Wonderful. I can tell she's restless so I sit on the bed and rock with her. No good. Apparently I needed to be upright! So I cuddle her while standing and sway...and sway....and sway. Back pain? Check. Feet hurting? Check. I had managed to kick off my fabulous pink shoes but I was still in my work attire. Perfect for getting a baby to sleep.
Finally both Sweetie Pie's are asleep so I go downstairs to empty the dishwasher and reload it with tonight's dishes while talking to Mr. Fab about the various people he saw at soccer practice. At least he was able to get some adult conversation in. This was at 9:54pm. I'm exhausted so I head up to bed with Mr. Fab but my mind is racing so we watch Tosh.0--awesome programming, I know--but I like to watch idiots make fools of themselves.
I managed to survive the day and went to sleep knowing the next day would be just as much of a circus act.
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