Today is Tuesday, August 7.
7 ish: I wake up when Tim comes in the room mumbling something about how he'll have to bring Timmy to bed with me because the girls are up, blah, blah... Huh? I have no idea what he's talking about. I roll out of bed, and out to the kitchen, where I find Timmy sitting in his high chair. He's still wearing his diaper from the night before, so I bring him into his room to nurse him and change him.
7:15 a.m. Annie comes in just as I'm finishing up changing Timmy, and she starts whimpering and pointing behind the door at a big bug. I can't see behind the door, so I walk over and take a look. Sure enough, it's a giant American cockroach/water bug/palmetto bug -- whatever you prefer to call it, depending on where you live. Here in eastern North Carolina, they are at least two inches long, and I typically find them in my bathroom, especially after a big rain. Just a couple weeks ago, I had one skitter up my leg while I was standing at the sink brushing my teeth. I hate those damn things. Once while Tim was deployed, I tried to drown one under a dixie cup in the bathtub, then flush it down the toilet. I learned that you can't drown them, and it might take a couple of tries to flush them because they can crawl out of the bowl (which is probably how they found their way into the bathroom in the first place). They are quite harmless, our pest control man assures me. Just the same I'm glad I can yell for Tim to come in and deal with it.
Tim mentions that when he went to get Timmy first thing in the morning, his door was already wide open. That's funny. I know I didn't open it, and the girls sleep like rocks. There would be no reason for them to do it. I said, "Maybe the bug did it!" It was big enough to open a door.
7:20 a.m. Tim kisses everybody goodbye, leaves for work, and we eat breakfast.
|Yup, that sums up how I feel every time I get out of bed. Delaney took this picture.|
7:30 to 9 a.m. Mornings are such a blur. I drink some coffee and watch some news. At around 8, Timmy's ready for his nap, so I lay him down. I check Facebook and see that a few people have commented on the article I shared last night about how Gap and Old Navy are producing "gateway mom jeans." That really struck a chord with me. Many are the times I've turned this way and that in front of a 3-way mirror trying to convince myself that a pair of Gap Long & Lean jeans doesn't really make my butt look flat as a pancake. I thought I was the only one with a problem. It's Gap, it's supposed to be stylish. I feel so betrayed! I want to light all my Gap jeans on fire after reading this. Some people ponder more meaningful things with their morning coffee, but not me.
While I was sitting there, I couldn't help but chuckle at how Tim and I continue to babyproof as if we're watching somebody else's kids for a few days, instead of parenting our own for the past five years. It's like we're still in denial.
9:02 a.m. Timmy's awake and he has a poop in his pants. It's time for everybody to get ready to go out. I'd wanted to go to the pool today, but it's raining at this point, and the forecast is calling for storms throughout the day. I decide it's a perfect day to take the girls to get the haircut they've been needing for so long.
Somehow it takes us a whole hour to get ready and get out the door. I have a really hard time getting going in the morning, and it probably has to do with how much time I spend doing nothing. That's the way I want my mornings to be. I don't like having to be somewhere early.
I put on a little bit of makeup -- concealer for my acne and my undereye circles, mascara (although I don't know why I bother, I can't tell a difference), a little eyeliner, and some lip gloss. I brush my hair and notice, as I've been noticing every day for at least a month-and-a-half, that I really need my highlights done. I should get my brows done too, that always looks nice. Maybe I'll do it all in time for the Birthday Ball in November.
10:10 a.m. We arrive at Fantastic Sam's, which is where I've taken Delaney for as long as we've lived here. This will be Annie's first haircut ever. Between it being her first time and my "day in the life," I was snapping pictures nearly the entire time. The people there must have thought I was one crazy picture-taking mama.
|Delaney's first because she's done this before. That's a scraggly-looking ponytail!|
|Delaney has such beautiful hair, and I'm looking forward to being able run a brush through it again without running into snarls.|
|Annie's hair isn't really curly, it just looks that way because it was in braids.|
|Just a little smile|
I won't even post "after" pictures, because their hair is exactly the same as it was, just a little shorter. The girls were both given little goody bags, and I got a certificate and lock of hair for Annie's memory box.
|It says she's graduated from babyhood -- just in time to start preschool|
1100 a.m. We get back home and I start making lunch. Delaney is playing with an inflatable Simba that was in her goody bag. I tell her his name is Simba, and then I realize she's never seen The Lion King. I tell them about Simba's friends, his mean Uncle Scar, and his mom and dad. I say that we should watch The Lion King next time we have movie night. I start singing "I just can't wait to be king" while the kids watch slack-jawed. Then I explain that we had the video when I was little, so I saw it at least a 100 times and know the songs by heart.
I make open-faced pulled chicken sandwiches for Timmy and me (I'd rather have them on a burger bun, but we only have two left and I'm saving them for tonight), and hot dogs for the girls. Timmy takes individual bits of his sandwich, touches them to his tongue, then tosses them over the side of his tray with a little shudder. He hates it. I should have remembered that from last night. It might be too much flavor for him, with the barbecue sauce and apple cider vinegar. I give him cheerios and cut-up strawberries instead.
Noon. Lunch is over, everybody's tired, and we're still a long way from naptime. Mornings are usually filled up by the pool. I clean up the kitchen. Delaney goes upstairs to watch TV and play with her Simba. I change Timmy, and goof around with him and Annie for a little while in his room. Annie says, "Squeeze me and tickle me." I do, and she collapses and writhes on the carpet, laughing so hard she can barely breathe. It looks like absolute torture to me, but as soon as I stop she says, "Again. Tickle me and squeeze me!"
12:30 p.m. I can't keep Timmy up any longer. He's getting very fussy and rubbing his eyes. I nurse him and lay him down for his nap. 15 minutes later, after potty and stories, Annie is down for her nap too. Delaney and I sit on my bed. She looks at videos on my iPhone after we do a "911 drill" because I tell her if she wants to use my phone for fun, she needs to be able to use it to save my life too. I drink a glass of iced tea while I read blogs and look at all the pictures I've taken so far today. Even though I'm tired and had trouble sleeping last night, I'm trying not to take a nap today, and have the cycle continue. I pop back up and go out to the kitchen for some Raisinets, and share some with Delaney. Sshh, don't tell anyone, we're not supposed to eat in bed! We sit there in companionable silence.
2:30 p.m. Is that Timmy already? It's only 2:30! Oh, but I did put him down at 12:30, didn't I? Timmy is not happy when he wakes up. He's irritable and he acts like he's tired of seeing me. He doesn't nurse, and he's not very cooperative with diaper-changing. It's going to be a long afternoon.
3 to 5 p.m. It's a long, dreary afternoon. I'm really wishing for a fast-forward button. Sometimes I hate my "one trip a day rule." I'd love nothing better than to pile the kids in the car and go somewhere. But at least the girls are being good.
I give them graham crackers for a snack. The girls both ask for ice water with a "surprise straw." They always ask for "surprise straws" ever since we started buying multicolored straws. That suits us just fine -- it beats "I want the pink one! I want the green one!" any day. But the multicolored ones are just about gone, and from now on it's going to be a surprise! clear straw for everyone. Tim looked for more colorful ones last time he went to the store, but there weren't any.
|Timmy and his "walker"|
I read them a chapter of Winnie the Pooh, only because Delaney asks. I'm supposed to like Winnie the Pooh because it's a classic, but the excessive dialogue and wordiness in general drive me crazy. Reading it out loud is a frustrating exercise. I want to tell Pooh and all his friends that they talk too much.
Then we play for a little while. Timmy plays with the toy kitchen for several minutes. He's the only one who likes it. The girls ask to watch a movie, so I help them turn on Barbie as Thumbelina and go downstairs. I'm so glad that from the looks of Tim's emails, he is going to be home at a reasonable time tonight. I pick up around the house and try to keep Timmy out of trouble.
5:20 p.m. I take Timmy to the window so he can see Tim get out of his truck, and I wish I had the camera when his face lights up like Christmas. Tim looks up and sees us standing there, waves, and Timmy laughs his breathless little, "Huh. Huh." He points and waves and squirms excitedly on my hip. When he opens the front door, Timmy lunges at him. I guess my job here is done.
|Every time Tim comes home from work, it's like February 3 all over again.|
Tim was going to grill burgers for us, but as we walk over to the grill -- all three of us, because Timmy won't let him out of his sight -- raindrops start falling. So he fries them on the cast-iron skillet instead. The kitchen starts filling with smoke because the exhaust fan is useless. Tim flings every door open and fans the stove with a towel, and I really, really hope the smoke alarm doesn't go off. What a horrible noise! It's supposed to be horrible, it's meant to make you leave your house! I never use the cast-iron skillet because it weighs a ton, and causes smoke. Thank goodness the alarm doesn't go off this time.
The greasy 1/3- pound burgers are medium-rare. I break off bits of it and give them to Timmy, saying, "Here you go, boy who needs iron." (His pediatrician told me the other day that his hemoglobin is on the lower end of normal.) Timmy loves the burger, and gobbles it up eagerly. My belly feels full only halfway through, but that doesn't stop me from polishing the whole thing off. I'm not able to eat much else, and my stomach feels like it has a brick in it. I blame the kaiser roll.
6:30 to 7 p.m. Tim supervises Delaney taking her shower while I clean up the kitchen. Then I give Annie and Timmy a bath. After bath, Annie runs out to find Tim and begs him to carry her to her room "like a stack of potatoes." He does this instead. When they get to the doorway, he says, "Annie, watch your head!" She shrieks with fear and delight.
7:00 p.m. We have new books to read from the library -- well, new since yesterday. I love them. I picked out Annie Rose is my Little Sister. It's the sweetest book ever. It makes my heart melt every time. Annie picked out When Moon Fell Down. It's very cute and I enjoy reading it.
|I feel like a teacher here.|
The girls say their prayers, and we turn out their light and leave. I take Timmy to his room and attempt to nurse him. He's not interested -- probably too full from that burger still, and I can't blame him for that. I'd better pump because he's already missed a feeding or two today. I lay him bed and say, "I love you, sweet boy. Nighty-night."
7:15 to 10 p.m. I'm so tired. My back hurts, and my belly still feels like it has a brick in it. I do some laundry, take a shower, read a magazine, and fart around on the Internet.
Tim puts his arm around me while I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop, and leaves a plastic scorpion sitting on my shoulder. I snarl and throw it at him, and he laughs hysterically like a 12-year-old. Somehow it ended up in our room, and I need to make it disappear, because for the last two nights he's left it under the covers for me to find.*
I read a magazine, fold some laundry and we watch some Olympics and an old rerun of Tosh.0.
10:15 p.m. Tim takes the girls to the bathroom. I feel a little guilty just sitting there while he does it himself, but not quite guilty enough to get up and help. Soon after that, we call it a night.
*The following morning, that stupid scorpion fell down when I pulled my cereal box off the shelf. Not funny! OK, maybe just a little funny. I know I should make that thing disappear, but instead I left it in his underwear drawer. Teeheehee.