Still trying to dig out this week, and in a—and I’m going to use this term super generously—cleaning blitz I also unearthed a sheet of paper I’d scribbled up a few months ago, a running log of how I spent my time one random day in May.
Am going to toss the paper for the sake of clutter control but because I will someday miss these moments, here’s a memory-jogger of what life was like back when:
4.30a: First wake. Stumble to the nursery, replace the bink, everybody back to sleep.
5.30a: Second wake. ANGRY BANSHEE EDITION. Carl tries to rock her back to sleep, but it’s a no go. Finally brings her to bed with us.
6a: Snuggle her back to sleep in our bed after discussing the fan whirring above us and admiring her (newish) clapping skills. Carl asleep already. I finally doze off to the squish/squirm of her paci sucking.
7a: Wake for real. Snuggles; a Barney episode in bed while Carl and I read the news, compare dreams (nothing interesting), and talk about how we need to do something about these random early morning protests (we never do anything. Sometime between 5 and 6 she routinely finds her way to our bed for months).
7.45a: Downstairs. Make coffee, breakfast.
8.20a: Shower—with running narration, while Iris stands on the rug outside, holding the curtain aside and looking concerned. Everybody gets dressed, and we take turns keeping an eye on Iris, who sits on the bathroom counter, plays with the faucet, and dumps out the Q-tip container.
8.50a: We drive Carl to work.
9.15a: Iris falls asleep about 2 minutes before we pull into the driveway back home. Am prepared. Pull out the laptop and write with the windows down while she sleeps in her carseat.
10a: Iris wakes up. Pull a bucket of weeds in the backyard while she runs around. Water flowers together. Go inside and do dishes.
11.15a: Stop work for a snack, which turns into lunch. Also: SURPRISE! Milk gets spilled all over the floor. Do not pass Go.
11.30a: Go upstairs and pick up the detritus from showers and dressing Iris on the run. Clean the bathroom (except for the sink, which still needs to be bleached).
12p: Iris wants to play in her crib (new fascinating game). Sit down with my iPod while she plays and update the grocery list.
12.10p: Until I realize my SIL, also a stay at home mom, is ALSO sitting on her iPhone somewhere in Connecticut. Have ourselves a watercooler text fest.
12.30p: Sweep and pick up the nursery while Iris continues to play. Organize the overabundance of toys on the floor and try to decide what can be thrown out, donated, or put in storage until it’s age-appropriate for the new babe.
1p: Iris is getting sleepy again. Curl up in bed and watch a kid show while she dozes and tries to get cozy. (This is the stage where she only naps while watching Barney or in her carseat. So really I’m just being eco-friendly. Typing this now, in July, though it’s nice to know that that particular nap stage was pretty short. She mostly just lies down and goes to sleep after a few minutes of tossing around these days).
1.45p: JUST KIDDING! After watching her roll around in a dozy stupor for forty-five minutes—punctuated with her trying to get up and dance—I’m over it. Go downstairs and bake cookies instead.
2.40p: Second attempt. Cruise Pinterest and catch up on social media on the iPod while Iris thinks about napping.
3p: STILL NO EFFING NAP. Refill her plastic pool in the back yard; share a sloppy joe on the back stoop. Play with the hose and blow bubbles. Pull another bucket’s worth of weeds.
4.20p: Back inside. Change Iris out of her wet and muddy onesie (SURPRISE! It’s poop!). Rinse out onesie so the mud doesn’t stain everything. Change my own, also wet and muddy clothes. Back to the bedroom for a parting shot at an afternoon nap.
4.30p: HUZZAH! She sleeps. Pull the laptop out from where I’ve hidden it under the blankets at the foot of the bed and write AFAYC. While eating trail mix (also conveniently stashed out of sight in the bedroom).
5.45p: Iris up and it’s perfect timing. Get the kitchen prepped for dinner, buckle up, and head out to pick up Carl from work.
6.15p: Make dinner while Carl and Iris play with her stacking cups.
7p: Weather’s still nice. Take a stroller ride down to the park. Play for a while before coming home and giving Iris half a cookie with some milk.
8p: Start the water for Iris’s bath.
8:30p: Bath over. Putting pajamas on is THE WORST apparently. Fortunately books are good. Read 3 books. Exchange good night kisses with her daddy. I rock Iris to sleep, but it takes a while since her nap was so late, and she wakes up when I lay her down. Put my hand on her belly while she lies in the crib and think about my book while she drifts off. Stare at her asleep and feel lucky—inevitable emotional response to watching her sleep.
9p: Crash on the couch. Carl has cleared the table, put away the last of the food, and picked up the toys while I was putting Iris to sleep. We chat about our day, eat more cookies than planned, and watch a 30 minute episode.
10.15p: Upstairs to brush our teeth and get ready for bed. I will be asleep by 10.30-10:45. Carl, who is not pregnant and spends less time working the midnight shift, will probably read the news or watch half an episode of the Hatfields & McCoys miniseries in bed before he’s ready to call it a night, meaning I will probably drift off while listening to Appalachian peeps arguing bitterly over the unlawful slaughter of a pig.
An excellent day.