it's my potty · Kids · parenting · the Breastaurant · whine and cheese

Some days are like that. Even in Australia.

6:30 a.m.: Wake up to R screaming shrilly. Her temperature is 104F (40c).

6:32 a.m.: Dose her with Advil, walk her around a bit.

6:41 a.m.: R falls asleep. Put her in the swing.

6:42 a.m.: In the kitchen getting myself a glass of water.

6:42 a.m.: “Eeeeeeeeemaaaaa… Eeeeeeeeemaaaa…” Good lord, K is awake.

6:44 a.m.: “mamamamamamama!” … and she’s woken N up as well.

6:48 a.m.: Step out of denial and go to greet the kids with a smile. Almost fall asleep standing in their room.

7:00 a.m.: Kids won’t go back to sleep. Get them up, washed and dressed.

7:15 a.m.: Kids have been given food and drink. I lie down on the couch.

7:17 a.m.: “eeeeeeeemaaaaa…”

7:21 a.m.: “eeeeeemaaaaa…”

7:24 a.m.: “eeeeeeeeeemaaaaaaaa…”

7:30 a.m.: It’s too quiet in here. Open eyes, almost have a heart attack. K’s face is inches from my own and she’s just standing there, staring at me.

7:31 a.m.: I beg my child to PLEASE. let. me. rest. PLEASE. I may or may not be whining.

7:32 a.m.: Said child nudges her way onto the couch and insists on lying down with me. I cover her with the blanket and close my eyes.

7:36 a.m.: Almost asleep, drifting in that beautiful spot where you’re aware of how deeply relaxed you are.

7:37 a.m.: “eeeeeeeeemaaaaa…”

7:40 a.m.: Only ten minutes before part-time nanny arrives.

8:00 a.m.: Where is the nanny? No matter, I’ll just sleep a little more.

8:20 a.m.: Mr. December appears and asks where the nanny is. Points out that it’s time to take K to school.

8:22 a.m.: After looking at K and hearing her sneeze and cough, I decide that she should just stay home.

8:30 a.m.: R wakes up hungry. Simultaneously, N fills his diaper and needs a change this instant.

8:31 a.m.: Feed R.

8:32 a.m.: In a tacit acknowledgement of just how rough my day is going to be, Mr. December changes N’s diaper before leaving for work.

8:45 a.m.: Mr. December leaves for work.

8:45 a.m.: Sell my soul to Disney – turn on Youtube and find a Winnie-the-Pooh movie that the kids haven’t seen yet.

8:50 a.m.: Put R on the floor to play with her hanging toy. Settle in on the couch with N on my lap and K snuggled into my side.

8:51 a.m.: Fall asleep sitting up. Wake up periodically to make sure everyone is still present and accounted for.

9:51 a.m.: Wake up, see N sucking his thumb, declare it to be naptime. Give N some milk and then put him to bed.

9:53 a.m.: K refuses to nap. Seriously? Just go to sleep, kid.

9:55 a.m.: Whatever. R and I are going to my bed. K can play quietly by herself for a little while.

9:56 a.m.: In bed. asleep.

1:00 p.m.: Wake up. Realize that K has been playing by herself for the last three hours.

1:02 p.m.: Go to check on K. She’s passed out on the living room couch.

1:05 p.m.: Get N out of bed, change diaper, feed him lunch.

1:25 p.m.: N doesn’t really want lunch. He wants to play with his food. Remove food from table and set him free.

1:37 p.m.: K wakes up. Her pull-up is bulging and saturated gel beads are falling out of it. Instruct K to go directly to the bathroom and take the pull-up off over the potty.

1:39 p.m.: “Eeemaaaa…” K is crying this time. “I need your help…”

1:41 p.m.: Put R on the floor mat for tummy time. Arrive in the bathroom to see a huge pile of pee-soaked gel beads on the floor. N is playing with them.

1:42 p.m.: Sweep N off the floor. Wash his hands. Put him in the hallway and close the bathroom door. N screams.

1:43 p.m.: K is still miserable. Run a warm bath for her. While K is in the bath, clean up gel beads and roll up bath mats to be washed.

1:51 p.m.: Pull N off of R. Repeatedly. I now understand exactly how she got sick.

2:03 p.m.: N is miserable and can’t seem to function. Put him back in bed.

2:04 p.m.: N is crying. I’m sure he’ll fall asleep in a minute.

2:07 p.m.: N is now shrieking. He has thrown up all over himself, his bed, the floor, and parts of the rocking chair.

2:08 p.m.: Run for some cloths to sop up the mess on the floor so I can get to N without stepping in puke.

2:09 p.m.: Get K to vacate the bathtub. Run fresh water to warm up the bath. Strip N’s clothing off and dump him in the tub.

2:10 p.m.: Mop up N’s floor and strip his bed. Take the soiled bedclothes downstairs and start the laundry machine.

2:11 p.m.: Oh, that’s where all the kids’ clothes are… in the dryer. And in the basket on the floor. Waiting to be folded.

2:15 p.m.: N has perked up and is vocally demanding more bath toys.

2:30 p.m.: N is finally ready to get out of the bath. Soap him up quickly, get him out, put on fresh pajamas. Hmmm… something still smells. It’s me. Change clothes.

2:42 p.m.: R is screaming. Tummy time is so over. Her fever is back too.

2:46 p.m.: Dose R with Advil, call a nurse friend for advice, pray that I don’t have to take R to the doctor today because how on earth will I manage three sick kids when I’m sick too?

3:00 p.m.: Give N and K freezies to keep them hydrated.

3:09 p.m.: N is seeking another freezie.

3:19 p.m.: The freezer door alarm keeps going off. Get up and close the freezer door again. Instruct N that freezie time is over.

3:30 p.m.: Let the kids watch the rest of that Winnie-the-Pooh movie.

4:30 p.m.: Movie is over. K requests music. Put on CD from our music class and pull out the instruments. Attempt to fold laundry while K and N use drums and claves to drown out the CD.

5:00 p.m.: Somebody’s stinky. It’s N. Diaper is full – apparently this gastrointestinal virus goes both ways. Change his diaper and his smelly pajamas.

5:25 p.m.: High schooler from down the street shows up for her regular Tuesday evening gig. Leave her with the kids. Take dinner out of the freezer and heat it up. Attempt to clean up the kitchen.

6:00 p.m.: Sit kids down at table. Offer N some plain pita.

6:03 p.m.: N throws up all over himself, the highchair, the floor, and the table leg.

6:04 p.m.: Grab clean cloths for the floor. Whisk N into the bath and leave him there while mopping the dining room floor.

6:10 p.m.: Finish cleaning up puke. N is happily playing with his toy elephant. Suddenly remember that N’s mattress protector needs to go in the dryer.

6:20 p.m.: Mr. December comes home. Get N out of the tub and give to his father for dressing.

6:25 p.m.: Nurse R.

6:30 p.m.: Try to put N in bed. N screams. Hold him and sing while he struggles to get down. Give up and put him back in the crib.

6:35 p.m.: N still crying. Maybe he’s thirsty… give him some pedialyte to drink.

6:40 p.m.: R screaming. Leave N, take care of R. Somehow in the brouhaha get K to go brush her teeth and put on a pull-up. Babysitter empties dishwasher.

7:00 p.m.: Both big kids in bed. Mr. December wants to go downstairs to his man-cave. I give him The Look. He stays upstairs and holds R while I eat my dinner. Sigh. Falafel would be so much better if it was hot.

7:30 p.m.: Mr. December finally gets to do his thing. R and I hang out in the living room. Alternate folding laundry with feeding R, rocking R, holding R, and trying to put her to sleep. The rest of the evening is a blur.

10:34 p.m.: Laundry is still not folded. R has fallen asleep twice and woken up twice. I realize that I should be loading the dishwasher instead of blogging. There’s clean clothing all over the living room, the kitchen is a mess, I think there’s a melted freezie under the couch, and I just heard N whimper.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

4 thoughts on “Some days are like that. Even in Australia.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s