Day In the Life of...
Sometime last December I stumbled across this blog post by Alethea Kontis.
I don't have Alethea's wry humor, nor her ability to conjure words, but I thought it might be fun to do a Day-In-The-Life-Of post anyway. Accordingly, here are my notes from a typical winter's day last December.
6:55 -- It’s still dark, but I’m awake. Contemplate getting up.
7:00 -- Alarm rings. Get out of bed, shut it off. Nearly get steamrolled by the seven-year-old who has been waiting in ambush for Mommy to emerge from her room. Snuggles.
7:10 -- Seven-year-old wants to play Siedler von Catan, a board game that requires about an hour of concentrated effort. Negotiate a plan to play AFTER school rather than before.
7:15 -- Exercise: jogging through the house, situps and stretches.
7:40 -- Make snacks for school
7:42 -- Interrupt snacks to race a puke bowl to the bedroom. Decide to abandon the bowl and transport the vomiting toddler to the bathroom.
7:50 -- Leave toddler watching tv, drive seven-year-old to school.
8:12 -- Back from school. Sneak into bedroom to kiss husband good morning. Sucked back into the comfy softness of the pillows.
8:55 -- Check on toddler and coax five-year-old out of bed.
9:02 -- For once, five-year-old and I do not argue about which outfit may be worn to kindergarten. However, we’re late anyway because it was essential for her to tell me about each and every page in the Friends Book prior to going potty.
9:35 -- Drop five-year-old off at kindergarten. Pay for overpriced day care photos. Tell staff we'll be out of town tomorrow.
9:40 -- Drive into town with toddler for nasty cancer-related injection. Turns out they don't have the medication in stock, and I have to come back tomorrow. Two hours wasted. Grr.
11:30 -- Back from town. Successfully sweet-talk husband into picking up kids from school.
11:33 -- Check email while toddler plays. Ten messages. No reply on the critique I wrote yesterday. Hope it didn't get eaten by the spam filter.
11:40 -- Remember that my kids, having scrimped and saved for months, finally purchased a JumpStart Membership last night. Add purchase to my financial records.
11:50 -- WRITE!
12:35 -- Kids arrive home from school. Seven-year-old reminds me of my promise to play Siedler. Game is stressful because the toddler refuses to nap.
1:23 -- Siedler done. Kids now beg to play JumpStart, which is problematic because they'll need my work computer. But they saved their money for months, so I give in. Begin loading JumpStart.
1:25 -- Disentangle distraught five-year-old from older brother, who she was pounding on the head. Redirect to computer.
2:00 -- Lunchtime accompanied by a lively debate regarding the definition of "healthy food". Toddler still not napping.
2:27 -- Daddy mans the kids while Mommy escapes outside for a bit of fresh air.
2:43 -- Return home to find distressed seven-year-old waiting out front with his hat and jacket on because he wanted to come, too. Agree to take him to the park. We climb to the top of the play fort and engage in a faux boxing matching during which he learns the value of blocking one's opponents' thrusts.
3:12 -- Seven-year-old and I walk along the river. The air is crisp and the snowscape crunches beneath our feet. We throw rocks into the river and watch them skid across the ice.
3:34 -- Back home. Check on sick toddler and crabby five-year-old. Daddy vanishes into his office to work.
3:37 -- Check Christmas inventory. Do we need anything else?
3:48 -- Succumb to sincere petitions for chocolate milk.
4:05 -- Plan supper. Play with girls.
4:18 -- Toddler is finally napping, but the kids are playing on my work computer again. Scribble story outlines on scratch paper.
4:45 -- Computer's free! Scrivener, how do I love thee...
5:55 -- Brain fizzle. Time for a break. Dishes?
6:26 -- More outlining interrupted by sick baby. More snuggles. Dang it, by the time I get back to the keyboard I've forgotten what I wanted to write.
6:45 -- Feed kids supper. Happily, there is no complaining.
7:02 -- Remembered what I wanted to write. Rush to keyboard and jot it down.
7:05 -- Homework time. Disagreement over the meaning of a word results in yelling and stomping. Sigh.
7:10 -- Late-evening rambunctiousness. Rein kids back to the kitchen long enough to clear their plates from the table. Afterwards, running and giggling reaches epidemic proportions.
7:15 -- Recruit Daddy for backup and tackle homework again. Seven-year-old demonstrates that he is reading. I am one proud Mommy.
7:35 -- Seven-year-old balks at the math portion of the homework. Bribe him with another round of Siedler. Warn him that bedtime is fast approaching.
8:05 -- Halfway through Siedler we learn that school is cancelled tomorrow due to adverse weather conditions. Renegotiate bedtime.
9:10 -- Siedler's done. Back to computer: process AnthologyBuilder submissions, plan tomorrow's task list. Tuck exhausted children into bed.
9:35 -- Join husband for the next episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Afterwards: sleep!
I don't have Alethea's wry humor, nor her ability to conjure words, but I thought it might be fun to do a Day-In-The-Life-Of post anyway. Accordingly, here are my notes from a typical winter's day last December.
6:55 -- It’s still dark, but I’m awake. Contemplate getting up.
7:00 -- Alarm rings. Get out of bed, shut it off. Nearly get steamrolled by the seven-year-old who has been waiting in ambush for Mommy to emerge from her room. Snuggles.
7:10 -- Seven-year-old wants to play Siedler von Catan, a board game that requires about an hour of concentrated effort. Negotiate a plan to play AFTER school rather than before.
7:15 -- Exercise: jogging through the house, situps and stretches.
7:40 -- Make snacks for school
7:42 -- Interrupt snacks to race a puke bowl to the bedroom. Decide to abandon the bowl and transport the vomiting toddler to the bathroom.
7:50 -- Leave toddler watching tv, drive seven-year-old to school.
8:12 -- Back from school. Sneak into bedroom to kiss husband good morning. Sucked back into the comfy softness of the pillows.
8:55 -- Check on toddler and coax five-year-old out of bed.
9:02 -- For once, five-year-old and I do not argue about which outfit may be worn to kindergarten. However, we’re late anyway because it was essential for her to tell me about each and every page in the Friends Book prior to going potty.
9:35 -- Drop five-year-old off at kindergarten. Pay for overpriced day care photos. Tell staff we'll be out of town tomorrow.
9:40 -- Drive into town with toddler for nasty cancer-related injection. Turns out they don't have the medication in stock, and I have to come back tomorrow. Two hours wasted. Grr.
11:30 -- Back from town. Successfully sweet-talk husband into picking up kids from school.
11:33 -- Check email while toddler plays. Ten messages. No reply on the critique I wrote yesterday. Hope it didn't get eaten by the spam filter.
11:40 -- Remember that my kids, having scrimped and saved for months, finally purchased a JumpStart Membership last night. Add purchase to my financial records.
11:50 -- WRITE!
12:35 -- Kids arrive home from school. Seven-year-old reminds me of my promise to play Siedler. Game is stressful because the toddler refuses to nap.
1:23 -- Siedler done. Kids now beg to play JumpStart, which is problematic because they'll need my work computer. But they saved their money for months, so I give in. Begin loading JumpStart.
1:25 -- Disentangle distraught five-year-old from older brother, who she was pounding on the head. Redirect to computer.
2:00 -- Lunchtime accompanied by a lively debate regarding the definition of "healthy food". Toddler still not napping.
2:27 -- Daddy mans the kids while Mommy escapes outside for a bit of fresh air.
2:43 -- Return home to find distressed seven-year-old waiting out front with his hat and jacket on because he wanted to come, too. Agree to take him to the park. We climb to the top of the play fort and engage in a faux boxing matching during which he learns the value of blocking one's opponents' thrusts.
3:12 -- Seven-year-old and I walk along the river. The air is crisp and the snowscape crunches beneath our feet. We throw rocks into the river and watch them skid across the ice.
3:34 -- Back home. Check on sick toddler and crabby five-year-old. Daddy vanishes into his office to work.
3:37 -- Check Christmas inventory. Do we need anything else?
3:48 -- Succumb to sincere petitions for chocolate milk.
4:05 -- Plan supper. Play with girls.
4:18 -- Toddler is finally napping, but the kids are playing on my work computer again. Scribble story outlines on scratch paper.
4:45 -- Computer's free! Scrivener, how do I love thee...
5:55 -- Brain fizzle. Time for a break. Dishes?
6:26 -- More outlining interrupted by sick baby. More snuggles. Dang it, by the time I get back to the keyboard I've forgotten what I wanted to write.
6:45 -- Feed kids supper. Happily, there is no complaining.
7:02 -- Remembered what I wanted to write. Rush to keyboard and jot it down.
7:05 -- Homework time. Disagreement over the meaning of a word results in yelling and stomping. Sigh.
7:10 -- Late-evening rambunctiousness. Rein kids back to the kitchen long enough to clear their plates from the table. Afterwards, running and giggling reaches epidemic proportions.
7:15 -- Recruit Daddy for backup and tackle homework again. Seven-year-old demonstrates that he is reading. I am one proud Mommy.
7:35 -- Seven-year-old balks at the math portion of the homework. Bribe him with another round of Siedler. Warn him that bedtime is fast approaching.
8:05 -- Halfway through Siedler we learn that school is cancelled tomorrow due to adverse weather conditions. Renegotiate bedtime.
9:10 -- Siedler's done. Back to computer: process AnthologyBuilder submissions, plan tomorrow's task list. Tuck exhausted children into bed.
9:35 -- Join husband for the next episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Afterwards: sleep!