Another Day

7:30am - Both of the children slept in and David and I are incredibly grateful for the extra rest.  Samuel comes into our room to wake us up and snuggle for a little bit.  As soon as I send him back to his own bedroom I hear Clara waking up...I guess that's the end of sleep for us.

8:15am - David has gotten up, dressed, and made a pot of porridge for breakfast after settling Samuel in front of cartoons for a bit.  I nurse Clara, change her diaper, and then we all meet around the table to eat.

9:30am - David is off to work.  I tell him lunch will be at 11:30. Samuel is allowed to finish watching Rescue Heroes and then turns off the television for the morning.

9:45am - Change another diaper, get Clara and myself dressed.  Begin the first 15 minute argument with Samuel over putting on his own socks, which he's learning how to do.  Drag him away from destroying my bed, drag him away from annoying his sister.  Send him to his room for time out.  After hearing screaming from the bedroom march in there to drag Clara away from him and, in a stroke of mean Mama genius, simply pop the flippin' red balloon everyone is fighting over.  Lots and lots of tears.  Head back into the room for round two of arguing over whether Samuel can put on his own socks.  A full 30 minutes after he started, the child is finally dressed.

Earlier this week we were given a garbage bag full of clothing for the children - I toss all of the barrettes and hair things in a tub of soapy water to wash.  Wash out the diaper pail.

10:00am - Keeping facebook on all day and am checking it obsessively as I wait for news of my dear friend's baby's birth.

Take out a chicken pot pie I made earlier this week from the freezer to thaw for lunch and a turkey breast to thaw for supper.  Make my bed and start shoveling the endless piles of crap toys and books that the children drag into our room day after day.  Samuel is my 'runner' and brings everything back to it's home base.  Sometimes I sound like a Russian naval officer.  Make my bed and tidy the master bedroom.

10:15am - The children occupy themselves by slowly destroying everything I clean up.  Toss Samuel outside to play in the backyard and change another diaper.  Set Clara at the table with some cashews in little cups to pour and play.  Put the dishes in to soak and start a load of laundry.  Right - I've run out of detergent; add a squirt of dish soap to the wash instead. Clean the cat box, change the kitchen garbage, hang out the wet bedding from the washer on the line.  Samuel is sulking outside because he wants to come in. Tidy up the deck and tell him he's out of luck.

10:30am - The cashews and cups have lost their appeal - I got a full 15 minutes out of them.  Let Clara loose again.  Sigh in disgust over the children's bedrooms as I make their beds.

10:45am - Nurse Clara.  Yell at Samuel to get off the deck and stop looking in the windows to get inside and go play in the sandbox Right. Now.  Jot off a quick email while nursing to David's alma mater who want to put us in the newsletter.

There's a moment of silence.  I refuse to go see what my children are doing.  Finish a cup of tea I started a few hours ago.  Wash the breakfast dishes and wipe down the table; preheat the oven and put the pot pie in to warm up.  Clara is taking apart a rubber repair kit and Samuel finally gets to come inside and wash his hands.  Check facebook and see that my friend has made it to the hospital and is 3cm already!

11:00am - Set the table for lunch, remind Samuel to go and Wash. His. Hands.  Seriously, what is wrong with this child's listening skills today?  Put on a double batch of bread dough to rise and dig through the fridge for some sort of salad-type food to serve with our pot pie.  All I can come up with is a very sad looking cucumber, which I slice up and put on the table with some dressing.  Drag Clara away from the hot oven, away from the table, away from the water...againagainagain.

Leave the kitchen for 8.2 seconds and when I come back Clara is in the process of emptying the salt and pepper shakers.

11:30am - Turn the pot pie up.  Hang the next load of wet laundry out and change another bum.  My house is a wreck.  David comes home and we sit down for lunch and over the din of insane offspring we attempt to recount our mornings and plan our afternoons.

Noon - David takes charge of cleaning up Clara and getting her down for her nap while I clear the table and send Samuel to the bathroom and then to bed.  Everyone gets quiet quickly.  David heads out to the garage to see if the car is ready to be picked up yet and I obsessively check facebook again for baby updates.

He gets back to tell me that although the garage has had our car for FOUR days, they apparently haven't even looked at it yet.  Ridiculous.

12:15pm - David goes to lie down for 45 minutes and I get dressed for nursing home visitation and pack my cross stitch bag to take with me.

5:15pm - Finally home from five hours of visitation and errands.  Dropped off the library books, went to the grocery store in the next town over, sat with the elderly at the home and sang hymns, and then kept another parishioner company.

5:00pm - Make up the gravy for the turkey, boil some yellow beans and get everyone to the table.

6:00pm -   The children refuse to eat anything but cheese and pickles and eventually consent to a little bit of actual supper.  Clara is in bed.  I read Samuel a few stories, nurse him and get him in the bath to splash about for a bit while I check facebook.  My friend is at 6cm!

And now I'm tired of recording a long and stressful day...I can't even make it until bedtime.