…of a stay-at-home mom.

Picture it: 2016

Daddy is leaving for work.  It’s 7:30 am.  Baby and I are waking up.  (Baby is far ahead of me.)

I am beyond tired and whip the boob out for baby.  Maybe I can get a few more moments of rest.  Nope.

Baby spits up on sheets.  I take her to get changed.  She pees on the changing table and her jammies.  So those go on the floor and a new outfit is picked out.  We proceed to the kitchen where she happily plays with her toys in her highchair.  I stumble around like a zombie, get the coffee pot started, open the mail from the day before.  A bill from the pediatrician….We have two insurances, how is the amount transferred from primary to patient?  I don’t really want to call these people…ugh.  Always on hold and never good customer service.

I make my eggs and toast.  Suck it down with my coffee.  Then I give baby her broccoli and then nurse her.  As she’s nursing, she gets distracted and milk proceeds to leak on the couch.  Ugh.  More cleaning to do later.  She continues and falls asleep.  Do I move her so I can get some things done?  Do I snuggle with her?  All while looking at the toys strewn across the floor, the socks that need to be paired and put away, the floor that needs vacuuming, the bathroom rugs that need to be brought to the washer, the re-usable shopping bags that need to be brought back to the car, the kleenex that needs to be put away, the shoe boxes that either need to be thrown away or put somewhere to use later….You get the picture.

My coffee has gotten cold.  Phoenix is now in her swing, wide awake.  Hopefully, she’ll snooze a bit.  I’m writing now.  Not feeling like doing a single thing.  But, there are dishes to be put away, more dishes to wash, wash that needs to go into dryer, clothes that need to be hung up, baby’s clothes need to be washed, baby’s bath toys need to be put away from last night…

To be continued….going to hopefully get some of this done.

Transferred frozen breast milk to freezer downstairs, put some groceries away from last night, refilled my coffee cup.  Picked up some toys.  Feefs is now cranky so I need to attend to her.  Another pause….

Feefs is happily playing on her play mat.  Rolling around like a pig in mud.  hehe.  We were worried (no not really) that she was never going to roll.  Her chunky self just took her time.

I just fed her and now she’s sleeping peacefully in the swing.  We still use it at 7 months old.  I’m sure some people will have opinions about that.  I look at it like this…the weight limit goes up to 30 pounds so I’m going to use it up to the max.

I put on the ID channel while feeding her and am now hooked to a show called Murder Book.  Oye.  However, baby’s clothes are in the washer, and to my surprise, daddy put the wash in the dryer so that was ready to come out.  Score.  Socks are paired, clean dishes are put away.

I have ideas for dinner plans.  Cauliflower cream pasta with herbs and/or brown rice bowl with edamame and tamari scallion sauce.  Preparing that is also something on my to-do list.

I continue to drink my not-so-hot coffee.  Taking a breather as I write this and finish the show for the next 20ish minutes.  I figure she’ll need to eat around 330ish and/or when she wakes up.  I fill out my review for a dining experience I just had to earn mileage for American Airlines.

Welp.  Baby is awake and fighting to go back to sleep.

She’s asleep.  I’m hungry.  Have leftovers?  Spend time making something?  Sigh.

So, I had ice cream.  For lunch.  Baby is up again.  She is loving her little giraffe and I’m sitting with her.  It’s really windy out and I feel like she needs to be with me.  Haha.  What.  I don’t know.

The laundry is still in the washer.  It’s freakin cold down there.  Ellen is on TV.  That is one of my must-watch shows.  Jeopardy is the other.  It’ll be 5, I need to shower because we are trying to make Spanish Family Time for All Ages at the library at 6:30.  They also have Story Time for 0-2 year olds.  At 10.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I wish I could attempt to even make that.  Not a morning person and need boatloads of sleep.  Ah!

If this post seems distracted.  It is.  I feel like this every single day.  Like I can’t catch up.  Like I’m barely getting by.  Forget taking a shower and getting myself anywhere near presentable.  I feel like I have ADHD, multiplied.  I have to remind myself it won’t be like this forever, or the anxiety will get the best of me.

When all else fails and I have so much to do, I sometimes end up doing none of it whatsoever.  So. Freakin.  Productive.

 

stay at home mom

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