A Taste of My Day...

This blog was written back in 2004 when I my kids were 1 and 4 years old.. It feels like just yesterday!

It’s a madhouse at 43613 W.Chambers every morning. Getting ready to go anywhere with two young ones is a major production. And maintaining a spotless home is not even in my vocabulary. There are times when I just want to throw in the towel, but I’m a glutton for punishment. Let me give you a taste of how a typical day for me goes:

 

4:45am: I look up at the clock and tell myself that I can sleep in 15 more minutes. I look over and see that my 5 year old, Mia is lying horizontally in my bed with her legs jammed up against my stomach and Sofia, my 1 year old, has her face mashed against the side of my head. Our dog, Greztky is sprawled out on the other end.

5:22am: I look up at the clock and realize that I overslept. I carefully spill out of my bed so as not to wake my 1 year old.

5:24am: I make my way to the bathroom and no sooner than I sit down on the commode, Sofia starts crying. I do the “supersonic-pee-and-wipe” technique, run to the bed and comfort her. She does not go back down. She’s hungry.

5:30am: I’m downstairs in front of the fridge. I warm her a bottle and then wake up Charlie. He takes her and holds her while she enjoys her warm breakfast.

5:40am: I sprint back upstairs, plug in my flat iron, brush my teeth, wash my face, apply my make-up, flat iron my hair, pick out anything in my wardrobe that matches, and is unwrinkled.

6:05am: Attempt to wake up Mia while I go through her closet for something unwrinkled without a set-in stain. I do the same in Sofia’s closet.

6:10am: Like her dad, Mia is not a morning person. She is slowly waking up. She complains about her stomachache. (She has a stomachache every morning between 6:10 and 6:30) My daily response to her ailment is, ‘Go poo, you’ll feel better.’

6:20am: Sofia is done with her bottle and plays with the dog. (Our dogs are very good babysitters)

6:30am: Charlie staggers into the bathroom and asks if I washed whites. When I tell him they’re in the dryer he shoots me a frustrated look. (It looks as if Super Mom is not up to par this morning.)

6:35am: Mia tells me she feels like throwing up. I tell her to go poo..she’ll feel better.

6:36am: I help Mia get dressed and she hates her shirt. It’s itchy, it’s too short, it’s too long, it’s made of cotton, it’s not made of cotton. It’s pink. It’s not pink enough.

6:37am: I attempt to do Mia’s hair. Mia has hair that goes down to her waist. Beautiful..but a lot of work. She insists on 2 braids. I whip up two braids to her liking…so I think.

6:38am: I come back into the room, Mia’s braids are gone. I didn’t braid them tight enough and she insists I do them again.

6:40am: Mia’s wearing a hair band and is in tears.

6:41am: I finally make it downstairs. Charlie is preparing Mia’s snack bag and Sofia’s diaper bag.  I step in pee. Our dog, Gretzky decided that taking a leak next to the closet was a bit more convenient than making his way outside.

6:42am: Sammy our dog is hacking up a pink Barbie stiletto along with yellow phlegm.

6:45am: I hand Mia her socks. She hates them. She hates the “line” that goes across the toe part. I force them on her and tie her shoes. Her shoes don’t fit right. They are too loose. They are too tight. They are not the right color. The shoelaces are too long.

6:50am: I change Sofia into her clothes. I comb her hair. I put her shoes and socks on. She looks cute and ready to go. She poos.

6:55am: I search for wipes. I change Sofia’s diaper. I don’t remember what I fed her the night before, but it looked like a burrito exploded between her butt cheeks.

6:56am: I tell Mia to brush her teeth. She whines. She gets toothpaste on her shirt.

7:00am: I hardly have any makeup left on my face. I sweated most of it off. My hair is unruly. I can’t find my watch.

7:03am: Charlie stands by the door and asks if I’m ready yet. If looks could kill, I’d be picking out his casket on the way to work.

7:05am: Everyone is strapped in the car. Mia asks her for her snack bag, Sofia starts to whine. Mia eats the Skittles for breakfast that daddy packed in her snack bag.

7:10am: I give Sofia her sippy cup. She drinks out of it then flings it against the side of Mia’s head. Mia cries.

7:15am: I give Sofia some Cheerios in a snack cup. She pours it out all over Mia. Mia cries.

7:25am: Before I go into “major-meltdown-mode” I Thank God for the DVD player in the car. I put on “The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly.” We all sing. Everything is once again joyous with the Baumunk clan.

7:50am: We make it to school/daycare. I hand over my precious gems to their respective teachers. Mia says she is sad and is going to miss me. Sofia looks over and could care less about me.

8:00am: Charlie is already waiting for me in the car wondering “why I took so long”. (Argh) We leave and head to work ready to sign divorce papers. I look at the mirror in my sun visor in the car. I look like crap and it’s barely 8:00am.

8:05am: I get to work, open up my office and breathe. I take a sip from my Diet Coke and relax. I love my job. I love adult conversation. I love using the restroom and not being asked ‘what I’m doing in there?’ I love getting to go to lunch and actually enjoy my food instead of inhaling it or worry about who’s spilling what or who needs to use the potty.

 

Despite the major work it takes to get our family going in the morning, it’s an event I wouldn’t trade anyone for. (Yes, a day off from it every now and then would be nice) And I know that after work it’ll be the same routine, but in reverse…and I welcome it with open arms. I understand that I am truly blessed to have happy, healthy children. I am blessed to have a beautiful home with a helpful husband and I am thankful every day that God allows me to enjoy another sunrise and sunset. Yes, I’m a working mother who tries hard to balance her career and family life. It’s not easy, but it can be done. When I start to feel overwhelmed and guilty about being a working mommy, I think back to a quote from the actress, Amy Brenneman. She was in her makeup trailer thinking about her five-year-old, and she didn’t want to be working.  She turned to her co-star Tyne Daly, and asked, ‘Why am I working?’ She said, ‘Because you need your daughter to witness that women can work with pride and dignity…”

 

And that’s what gets me through each and every day.