Jen H wrote a post and it made me go hmmm.
aside: a lot of things make people and me, especially, go hmm. i guess it’s what c+c music factory was talkin’ aboot.
so, without further asides, my daily routine (please note that before fh left the first time, zoë rarely watched tv. her being a spirited kiddo/maybe just a normal fourteen-month old means that i often have to rely on dora and baby einstein and toopy [not binoo] and the little people to help me entertain her so i can do dishes, fold laundry, work if under tight deadline, etc. this is not what i want at all. i wanted a kiddo who had no idea who dora was not one who’s first sentence was “i did it” and recognizes the damn mini-consumer-marketed fruit snacks and alphagettis from the other end of the supermarket aisle, pointing and practically shrieking “dah-ah.” not that i’m defending myself, specifically. it’s just not how i pictured things turning out and i feel guilty and not a good parent for it.) onwards.
my typical day
somewhere between 5:30 and 9am – i wake up about 3 seconds before she does. allowing me time to have that first wonderful half smoke, during which i realize my teeth feel disgusting and that i’m craving a coffee already because i’m that tired and my blood sugar is low, while doing a pee-pee dance. pee and wash my hands and get her up.
about 2 minutes later – give her a cup of milk and proceed to make coffee while she circles my ankles. if she’s feeling independent, she rediscovers the toys she missed during the night and allows me to finish that half smoke.
for the next hour or two – spend time chasing her to wrangle her into clothes, change her diaper and eat breakfast (during which i will catch up on internet news for writing info and maybe do dishes or take a shower, pulling the highchair wherever i go.). and breathe through her allowing me to clean her up after eating breakfast without ear-splitting shrieks. brush my teeth and hand her her toothbrush to “brush” her own so i can have this two minutes of personal time while she humps/hugs my legs. make sure i don’t look too crappy and am fully dressed. pack up snacks and jackets while waiting for the morning diaper-motherload. flush said motherload and take off, eh?
the next couple of hours – depending on when she woke up, nap time is usually between 12 and 1. so we run errands (after stopping at starbucks, the god of all things wonderful) and maybe go to the beach or the park or just a walk around the neighbourhood or if things are really sucky outside, go to the bookstore or shopping at sears (bless you, sears, and your often over-done baby-days). snack is given immediately upon leaving the house, even though breakfast was only a short while ago. why? she just eats more in the damn stroller than anywhere else. at some point, there will be another diaper change, lest risking leaks – she’s a peeing machine.
shortly before nap time – home. diaper change and a bottle. pillow on floor, blanket there too. read or watch a movie while she stumbles around drinking milk or sits/goes limp all over me.
naptime – say nigh-night to the living room, rock her while singing you are my sunshine. lay her down after somewhere between 6-22 kisses and put her blanket on her. pretend to sleep while she hug/clutches my hands to her milk-inflated budda belly. stay about 5 minutes, after “we” talk about all the nice things she can dream about. then wave and blow kisses while backing out of the room and saying, “it’s ok, it’s nigh-night time” and she wails.
look at the clock and calculate what time it will be in 15 minutes, when i will go check on her and rock her some more, if she’s still up and wailing. make more coffee (third cup) and smoke (have actually smoked more than i’ve written. there’s generally a half upon leaving for our walk, a half on the way home and a half right before nap time). sit at ‘puter and wait/read. don’t start working until she’s out cuz there’s nothing worse to me than starting and having to quit 2 minutes later. can you say resentment/stress/feeling overwhelmed and underqualified? once she’s out, work.
sometimes, in emergency household mess moments, which with OCD can mean any moment, this means straightening and washing and scrubbing. most of the time, it’s replying to emails, blogging on one of three sites, bookkeeping and databasing. most of the time while doing these things, i’m also cooking dinner. and drinking my fourth cup of coffee. and pondering all of the ways i’m wasting my time and what i should really be doing with it and/or things i have on my plate that seem like they will never get done.
finish some work and have a sense of completion that lasts about 2 minutes while i think of what i should next, based on priority and deadlines. smoke. start new task and that’s normally when she wakes up.
when she wakes from her nap – smoke (yes, i know i just did) and then wash my hands and then get her out of her crib. after which i must rock her for between 2 and 20 minutes as the trauma of actually giving into sleeping has emotionally scarred her, so that she wakes in hysterics, regardless of sleep stage, position or time.
once she’s calmed, emotionally scar her again by changing her diaper – note, this is her least favourite activity in part because she has to lie there, i guess all vulnerable and also cuz at some point, i will want to do up the new diaper, removing her roaming, self-gratifiying hands from their task. i’ll never tell her to stop, but i will assert the “leg’s down, hands out, diaper on” mantra until she’s old enough to comprehend that that’s a private activity.
give her a snack/lunch cuz i don’t wanna ruin her dinner, but, as usual, she’s really not eaten much in the day and though i’m aware that she will regulate her own diet in accordance to her appetite, i feel as though it’s cuz i’m not affording her enough opportunities to eat. then get ready for another jaunt. snacks and jacket and motherload – you know the deal.
walk number two – realize things we’ve forgotten to do during errands or do the stuff we didn’t during the morning walk. after going to starbucks (fifth cup of coffee). sometimes, invent errands or just grab coffee and then walk back towards our apartment, letting her out of the stroller on our block, to circle it, looking at leaves puddles homeless people and cars. at the same time. stop her from running into traffic because she refuses to hold my hand and so i must stay directly between her and the street. stop about 15 times in a block to turn her back to the direction we need to head, laying her gently down when she refuses and goes limp (my new tactic – she goes limp, i’ll safely let her lie on the floor).
eventually we make it the two and a half blocks to our underground parking, where the stroller lives. she goes in, the stroller goes in, i go in. stuff comes off the stroller and i repeatedly ask her to follow me into the building – cajoling, saying please, bribing, offering stair climbing and key rings. nothing usually works, so i have to chase her from between the cars, picking her up and having her hit, headbutt and kick me in violent rage that i will not allow her to detail the cars in the parking lot with her jacket’s zipper. mean mommy.
home, again – yet another diaper change, since she is constantly drinking and peeing. (sign of diabetes? sure. will anyone be concerned with me? NOPE. i’m just a paranoid mommy, apparently – is it really normal for a 14 month old to drink 24+oz of milk, 4 oz of juice and at least 12 oz of water in a less than 12 hour period, though? i’ve tried restricting liquids a bit and offering more food, in case she was really hungry and liquids were just filling her up, but NOPE to that, too.) this is when the tv really gets used cuz it’s almost dinner time and therefore it’s
stupid children’s character i’ve seen five million times with annoying music time – this is when i finish making dinner or get the already-made dinner heated/portioned/cut up into zoë sized bits. i also clean off her highchair from lunch/snack time and make another cup of coffee (yes, i know, that’s six). after another diaper change, she eats dinner while finishing her show and i get to read the blogs that have no professional basis – blog time.
sometimes there’s straightening up and usually, i’ll eat something with her cuz i haven’t normally had much time to eat yet and i’m starving, so i’ll wolf back something three times her portion’s size in about 15% of the time it takes her to throw 55% of her food on the floor and stash it in her bib’s pocket. i let her decide how much to eat, but not what – there’s no kitchen being run here – i make her a balanced meal and if she doesn’t want it, it’s too bad, so sad (unless it’s been a horrendous eating day or she’s sick, then i’ll offer alternatives).
when all the dinner’s on the floor – she gets cleaned up, so there’s more screaming, then it’s
bathtime! – this is her favourite time of day because unless she’s eaten something particularly messy and staining like lasagne, i just let her play and 99% of her dirt or whatev washes itself off in the bubbles, what with all of the splashing. i let her pull the plug out of the drain when it’s over and then she runs around the 4′ square that is our bathroom, avoiding being dried off. then it’s
hippy baby time – when the diapers are off and she runs around naked and “airs out.” this goes on until i get too paranoid that she’ll pee on the floor, get upset, silent cry while holding her breath until she passes out in her puddle of pee. think i’m being ridiculous? she’s done it before. that’s more trauma because i’m putting another diaper on her.
then we brush her teeth and read a story or two while she has a bedtime bottle. if she’s not interested in reading, we cuddle on the bed (the couch, ahem) and watch a movie that doesn’t have a children’s character in it. lately, it’s been house. i know, not necessarily appropriate for a 14 month old, but i figure i’ve got a little while longer until that’s only viewable when she’s not around. another diaper change now that the bottle’s done, then onto
bedtime – when there’s more rocking and two songs are sung and i stay with her for closer to ten minutes, but otherwise the entire nap routine is repeated. then i tiptoe around my apartment, cleaning, showering (if i’ve good reason to), bookkeeping, laundering, writing, researching and reading. because if she wakes up, she’s even harder to get back to sleep than at bedtime or naptimes. sometimes, i’m so inundated with being overtaxed with workstuff that i will shut down, responsibility wise and just vegetate – read your blog or watch more movies. whether i’m working or not, i will be up until i am so tired that i’m nodding off…this is normally between
1 and 3am.
then i get up the next morning and do it all again.
on days when dr daddy comes, nothing changes except someone else bathes her and i have more cleaning to do and another person to cook for, it seems. oh and i can take the garbage out at any point, put laundry downstairs and do some dishes cuz if she’s got a problem with it, i rant, “can’t you do something?!” at him.
