This blog is now retired. My new site is at: Predictably Irrational.

Wednesday, September 03, 2008


Today is typical of how an average day goes for me.

First, I wake up...albeit slowly...and shower. If I'm lucky, I'll have a few minutes of silence, sans the sound the television in the background, before the girls get up.

And while they get ready, it's not so bad. But for me, if I haven't really thought about what the day's clothing line should be, I spend about 20 minutes staring at my clothes, trying to figure out what I should wear.

I like this shirt, but I have to wear a strapless bra and I hate my strapless bra! [Some days, I forget why I hate it and go for the strapless bra, only to thrown the mucker across my car as soon as I am on my way home...and vow never to wear it again.]

I love jeans, but I just wore jeans yesterday. I shouldn't wear jeans every day. [Why?]

This skirt is beautiful. I love this skirt! Why have I never worn it? Oh, I know why. Because I don't have a single blouse to go with it.

Ah. Let me put these two things together. [Dress. Look in the mirror. Frown.] Never mind.

And so on...

By this time, I need to get breakfast for me and the rugrats. Sure. I think: surely the rugrats will feed themselves! But alas, no. I have to be the responsible adult and feed the children.

Usually, they have no earthly idea what they want. Even if the day before, loads of breakfast items were selected by them and purchased by us: yogurt, bagels, peanut butter, Lucky Charms, Frosted Flakes, pop tarts, frozen waffles, frozen French sticks. We are loaded with yummy, fatty breakfast items. And in the morning, Tim or I ask: What do you want for breakfast? And a solemn, "I don't know..." is their reply.

Today, however, they wanted waffles. Not frozen ones but the bisquick mix kind. No biggie, but we have none prepared so I now must mix some waffle mix. I have plenty for the week, but I guara-damn-tee you, tomorrow and the next day and the next day, they won't want a bit of it.

I love my waffle maker. It's the Waring 'professional' waffle maker. But the sensor has been whacky, so if you don't pay attention, you'll end up burning one. And that's what happened to me: burned the first one; second one perfect; third one stuck. Finally, I got another one done plus my own.

While the mixing and the cooking of the waffles, plus fixing my lunch while they fix this lunch, this is what I hear:
Kid #1: Mommy.
Me, after 5 second delay of processing "mommy": Yes.
Kid #1: Sunkist was so cute...he stood on my lap!
Me: Cooo...
Kid #2: Mommy!
Me: oooool. Yes (to kid #2).
Kid #1: Mommy.
Kid #2: Put mustard on it!
Me: What?
Me: Yes CJ.
Kid #1: I need to show you something.
Kid #2: Mommy!
Me: Yes mi-mi?
Kid#1: Mommy.
Kid#2: Mommy! Put mustard on it! And by mustard, I mean chocolate!
Me: What?
Kid #1: Mommy. I need to show you something.
Me: Okay - what? [by this time, Kid#1 has been tailing me with a brochure.]

This goes on. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. And about 20 long minutes later, I can finally sit down to eat. I love my kids. But this mommy stuff is going to drive me crazy. The mommy stuff goes on ALL THE TIME. In stereo. And if you answer the wrong one first, then there's another scandal to deal with: I asked first! No you didn't! Yes I did! Mommy! I Asked first!!!!! Tsk! Mommy!!

So as my scatterbrain watches the clock: I want to be better than an on-time mom; I want to be the early mom! So I am trying not to act rushed getting everything ready for them.

Lunch packed. Check.
Gym bag. Check.
ID, phone, money. Check.
Girls, are your backpacks ready? Check.
Lunch boxes ready? Check.

I look down and see that Mi-Mi has no shoes. Go get shoes!! Oh yeah! And brush your teeth! Your breaf stanks. To which Mi-Mi replies, "Mommy. You're mean."

I brush my own and forget to check to see if I actually combed my hair. Scurry the children down the stairs and already, I am missing something. My coffee!!

Go back up the stairs and locate the mug of café.

Go back downstairs. Put my backpack on. Hold onto my lunch sack. And carry my coffee mug. I'm ready.

But Mi-Mi is squirming with her backpack and starts whining "Something doesn't feel right!!" And I look and see that a container of hand sanitizer that snaps onto her backpack is stuck on her back. Now, find a place to put my coffee mug down. Put lunch sack down. Take backpack off. Fix Mi-Mi's backpack. She's out the door and I have to pick and pack everything back onto me.

Walk out the door and make it to the car. Go through checklist again in my head. Finally, drive off into the sunset. No wait. That's another fantasy...

Make it to school...with CJ screaming in my ear: Oh my god! There's Ian. I ask: Where? And she screams: Don't look at him! Don't look at him!! So I put one hand up to appear as though I'm not and she laughs: you are blocking the wrong way!!!

I park to walk the girls into school. Mainly for Mi-Mi, since it's her first full week. I want to make sure she knows where her classroom is. I almost past the room because she told me she was in the third (of four) room but it was the first room.

I meet her teacher and we hear her tell the other children to put their folders into this folder thingy. In the background, I hear the teacher ask another boy: are these your spare clothes? DOH! Is what I think.

We open Mi-Mi's backpack and ta-da! No folder. Backpack was NOT ready as she stated. She looks at me with sad puppy eyes and I tell her: I'll go get it.

Teacher swoops her off as I walk back to my car, back out, and drive back to my house. While I'm there, I pick up spare clothes and tote the folder around so I won't forget it.

Leave house. Drive back to school. Fight for a parking space. Walk back in. Find class. Teacher's are busy. Put folder in folder thingy. See Mi-Mi sitting and doing puzzles. Give her a squeeze on the shoulder and tell her I brought the folder and put it in the folder thingy. Plus, I got her spare clothes. She looks at me like, 'whatever'.

I tell the assistant teacher, quite proudly, "I have Mi-Mi's spare clothes!" She stares at me like 'whatever'. I ask where I put them, hoping she'll just take them away from me so I can just go. She tells me they go in the cubby and I have to guess who's cubby belongs to Mi-Mi: what backpack did we buy her again????

That's done. I take a quick look behind me at my beautiful baby girl, sitting there quietly. And I walk out forgetting the stress of my typical day...

BTW, that was just from the hour of 7AM-9:15AM...

1 comment:

  1. And I think that things are crazy now with just one baby. Seems like I have so much to look forward to :)