Mamas Know There Are Days Like This

Plan:

9 a.m. Play with baby. Clean up breakfast dishes. Put load of laundry in washer.

10. Nurse baby, put her down for a nap.

10:20 - 12:20 p.m. Write.

Reality:

9 a.m. Play with baby, etc., etc., as planned.

10. Nurse baby, put her down for a nap.

10:20. Get cozy in my desk chair, with some much needed pasta to rescue plummeting blood sugar.

10:21. Turn on monitor. Jump six inches off chair at sound of baby screaming.

10:24. Sing, rock, yell-sing over the crying. Rock some more.

10:29. Place blanket over sleeping baby's lap, hit wall with corner of blanket making small thunk sound.

10:30 - 11:00. Sing, rock, yell-sing over the crying. Rinse, repeat. Bang head on floor. Resist urge to stuff baby in closet.

11:00 - 11:55. Walk up and down the street pushing baby in stroller-carseat-combo-contraption. Head high, hopes high, blood pressure high. Think about getting high.

11:56. Leave sleeping baby to run into the house and throw food in the cat's dish so she doesn't meow obnoxiously like she does every single second of my life.

11:57. Return to stroller, see blanket moving in a tell-tale jerky fashion. Peek inside stroller and see fussing but perhaps about-to-sleep baby.

11:58 - 12:03 p.m. Push stroller in circles around the minivan.

12:05. Carry sleeping baby in car seat into the house.

12:06 - 12:08. Get cup of coffee and sit down at desk to think about what I could have written.

12:09. Hear baby crying. Pick her up, march her over to the T.V. and prop her in front of Baby Mozart for second time this morning. Tell AAP to bite me.

12:10 - 12:19. Write inane blog post that will somehow make me feel better. A little. Sort of.

12:25. Look for missing car keys. Go get the boys. Late.