6 a.m. Alarm goes off. I jump out of bed hoping to at least shower before I hear the first tiny foot steps.
6:10 a.m. I'm just about to step my big toe into the big glass box when...
OK, I'll just grab her and let her play with the toys where I can see her while I shower. I run into the bedroom... oh my gosh, her crib is totally soaked.
6:15 - 6:45 a.m. I change clothes and sheets while conforting a girl who's not happy to have woken up wet and cold. OK, maybe I can return emails and suck down a cup of coffee before the boys wake up.
6:46 a.m. The boys wake up.
6:50 - 8:00 a.m. I try to return emails with one hand while feeding oatmeal into a hungry girl and convincing a three-year-old that, while he wants to wear his monkey shirt every day, the monkey gets tired and needs a day off.
A sippy cup whizzes past my head and hits my computer, square on the keyboard -- removing it's ability to type the letter X. (phew... a letter I rarely use) I get the boys dressed, finish making lunches and filling snack bags -- man, why didn't I do this last night? Faces are wiped, hair is combed (although strangely doesn't look like it) and they're out the door with Daddy for a fun morning at preschool.
8:15 - 8:30 a.m. Get a little work done while holding a squirming girl. I don't understand why she doesn't love television like every other kid. Hey look, it's Barney! "WAAAAAAAAH!" Yeah, can't really blame her there.
8:32 a.m. Phone rings. Hi Honey... what? A line at the preschool? Lots of women? OH. MY. GOD. It's the meeting for Parent Volunteer Club! I'm supposed to bring the muffins! It starts at 8:45. I can do this ...
8:55 a.m. I pull into the school parking lot with grocery store muffins and a baseball hat covering my still-dirty hair. The meeting is in full swing. Maybe they won't notice ...
Ugh, they noticed.
11:10 a.m. I pull back out of the school parking lot and head for home.
11:15 a.m. I get gas.
11:35 a.m. I pick up the dry cleaning. (I'm out already -- when else would I get to it?)
11:50 a.m. I grab milk -- whole for the little one, non-fat for the boys and me, and 1% for the hubby. Do I need help out? Nah, I got it.
11:55 a.m. Bag rips. Milk lands on pavement ... my car ... and us. Yeah, maybe I could've used a little help out.
12:15 p.m. We're home and changed (still not showered but some things just aren't going to happen today). I give Lucy some lunch and clean her up.
1:10 p.m. Lucy goes down for a nap. Perfect! Now I have exactly 90 minutes to finish a project, prepare for a 2 p.m. conference call, and take the call before she wakes up.
1:30 Oh no ... She's crying! My conference call is in 30 minutes -- I am totally unprepared. The dogs are barking at construction guys next door and the phone is ringing. (is it work? is the meeting early? did I miss yet another mom-duty at school?)
1:40 p.m. I grab Lucy, run outside to bring the dogs in, press play on the machine -- phew, doctor's office confirming an appointment -- put her down to play ... WHOOPS! Someone is adamant her feet don't hit the floor or butt hit the couch ... OK, OK, I'll hold you. I scamper into my home office with Lucy in my arms, use one hand to do a little research so I don't look like a complete idiot and collect a few points to add to the work conversation.
1:55 p.m. I attempt to put Lucy in front of Baby Einstein. If it works, I am free to work for 30 minutes. I. slowly. put. her. down. (silence) YES! She's going for it! I look at the clock... two minutes -- yikes!
1:58 p.m. I grab my laptop and find a spot in the house where I can see Lucy but those on the call can't hear the classical music or singing girl. I'm good to go... My computer dings...hmm, a new email... "hi jackie, the video conference call is on-time for 2 p.m."
NOTE: This post was written with a 20-month-old climber stepping all over me.
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