A Week in My Life, Day 1 – Sunday

(Ever wonder what I do all day, and how I manage all six of my kids? Heh, me too, sometimes :)

A Week in My Life is an experimental series I’m working on this week based loosely on the popular “A Day in the Life” photo diaries in which I plan to chronicle what I’m doing throughout the day, all week, with six kids in tow, flying solo while my husband’s away at school. I hope you’ll decide to drop in every-so-often during the day to see what I’m up to, and commiserate with me while I manhandle it all by myself!

Psst.. send coffee and chocolate – STAT!)

Sunday, April 25th 2010

8:00am – Dear sweet Baby Dude, today is Sunday, it is not time to get up yet. Have a boob, go back to bed. Thank you.

8:01- 9:45am – Attempt at sleeping late failed. Younger kids wrestling on who gets what side of mommy. Older kids wrangling bowls in kitchen, seeking breakfast. Must get up and cook. Crap.

10:30am – Coffee brewed and first cup poured, hash browns cooking, bacon frying, one waffle made, eggs are scrambled awaiting a free area on the stove to cook. Eyes almost awake.

11:30am – Breakfast complete, double-header poopie-diapers changed, youngest children dressed, kitchen being cleaned. Oldest wiping off table remaining while kids are sent upstairs to get changed and make their beds. I hear laughing and stomping instead. Grrr.

11:45am – First load of laundry finished and folded. Kids still playing upstairs while I put in a new load. Kitchen almost clean.

12:00pm – Try to keep my cool while I beg ask kids to please listen to me the first time and finish their rooms so they can go outside while I finish cleaning up. I make my bed.

12:30pm – I begin to read some emails, catch up on Facebook and Twitter. I still hear playing and schemes being concocted about where to shove items the fastest as to get outside the soonest. {Insert grumbled sighs here}

1pm – I realize that, now that the kitchen’s clean, it’s time to start thinking about lunch soon (the downside to having brunch). Double-crap. Kids are coming down here arguing about why it’s correct that they should clean their rooms. I show them how I cleaned up my messes, and how that’s the the right thing to do, clean up after yourselves when you’ve made a mess. My argumentative oldest son still doesn’t want to do it, though. I send him back upstairs anyway. {Growl}

1:15pm – Baby Dude given boob, falls asleep. Oldest son yelled at for stalling on cleaning up, still. Already wants lunch, tries to steal a waffle. Kindergartner crying upstairs. Triple-crap.

1:30pm – Whoa. Definitely need to make leftovers for lunch. Holy overloaded fridge, batman!

Holy overloaded fridge, batman
Besides, do I want to wreck my prettified (new) clean oven? (By the way, holy heck is it a pain in the ass to keep clean!)

Pretty new oven1:36pm – While on the phone with hubby, I’m told my toddler locked the boys out of their bedroom. So now I have to break into their room to open it. Lovely.

1:50pm – Operation Break Into Son’s Room is a success, after 10 minutes of furious lock-picking. Hung up on husband due to aggravation at the situation of his not being here to help and children not listening still. Play room was looking promising until I uncovered their secret stash of hide-and-run toy “cleaning”.. Am now finally about to heat up lunch for the kids. Contemplating taking a Nerve Tonic pill from Hyland’s.

1:51pm – Or maybe not. Baby is crying. DAMN IT!

2:10pm – Marathon breastfeeding session over…

2:10:15pm – or maybe not….

2:18pm – NOW it’s over. Resuming heating up leftovers for lunch. Definitely taking aforementioned pill. And drinking coffee.

2:25pm – Cleaning out leftovers from the fridge plus breakfast dishes is scary stuff. I think it’s going to eat me.

Dishes.. bleh!
2:27pm – Or, forget attempting to clean out the fridge. They all want my husband’s leftover pizza. Lovely.

2:54pm – (I’ve been doing this post for HOW long today? And I keep trying to capitalize numbers. Apparently, more coffee is needed.)

First batch of pizza is served, scary dishes are done, nerve pill has kicked in and it’s all unicorn and rainbows right now. And amazingly enough, both toddler and Baby Dude are still asleep. I might be able to squeeze in a workout before they wake {knocks on wood} ….

2:54:10pm – .. until neighbor kids bang on front door. Thankfully, they’re still sleeping. And I’m still trying to capitalize numbers. ARGHHHHH!!!!

3:05pm – Second batch of pizza is done. Hey, do you think that, if I scarfed it all down, it’d be okay to claim I burnt it all and threw it in the trash, so I could clean out the fridge like I’d intended? Or would that be totally wrong of me? Calories inhaled while husbands are away don’t count, right? Right!? Damn. That’s what I thought.

3:26pm – So, I was a good mom and didn’t eat my kids’ pizza, even though it was telling me I should, ‘cuz I deserved it. Instead, I made a Spirutein shake with peanut butter and banana. Now, the kitchen is recleaned, the kids have finished their pizza, but Baby Dude woke up screaming, so now he needs lunch. Working out will have to wait. Again. Crap!

3:27pm – Or, he just wants more boob. Arghhhhhh!

3:37pm – Still boobing it….

3:41pm – And. He. Went. Back. To. Sleep. Yes! My boob is mine again! Jillian Michaels, bring the pain, sister!

4:56pm – Jillian Michaels finally finished kicking my ass to the tune of 439.85 calories burned off. Only took an hour and fifteen minutes for a 50 minute workout due to children waking up, a neighborhood child’s bloody nose, my kindergartner’s vampire teeth, and a gazillion other interruptions. Thank goodness for the pause button.

Jillian Michaels, babyVampire Kindergartner

Sleepy kidlet
5:00pm – Dinner’s about to be started. Barbecue chicken drumsticks, smashed potatoes, mixed vegetables and homemade biscuits. Kids are all playing outside. I’m about to join them for a bit…

5:24pm – … but not without getting washed up and changed, first. Ahh, a fresh, clean, moisturized face, teeth brushed (because I, um, forgot this morning), deodorant on, new set of clothes and even a spritz of cologne (so what, I’m wearing a tank and yoga pants). I feel like a new person. Dinner’s in the oven, dryer’s going again. Outdoors, here I come!

5:25pm – Aaaaand I walk outside to find my oldest wasn’t outdoors with my youngest two anymore. They were all alone.. gulp! {Insert panicked mom here}

5:47pm – Come in to get water for me and kindergarten-dude, and search for Baby Dude’s shoes. It is GORGEOUS outside! I can’t wait to go for a walk with the kids later!

6:45pm – Chicken’s barbecue sauce is browning with the foil now off, potatoes are cut and on to boil for mashed potatoes, and vegetables are about to be microwaved. Biscuits on deck while half my kids are outside and half are upstairs playing. I don’t hear the dryer, so that load needs to be folded, too.

The silence is deafening. I should revel in it, but it’s hard when I miss my husband. Three-freaking-more-weeks.

7:05pm – Biscuits almost done, veggies almost done, potatoes are about to be drained and blended with the mixer. Chicken is out and cooling, kids are berserk on the trampoline, laundry is folded (again), new load is in, and I’m friggin’ fried. Do I seriously do all of this every-single-day? Holy cow, I’m smoked!

8:24pm – Holy crap. Kids took forever and a day to eat, so no walk for us tonight, damn it. Baby Dude decided dinner was better if flung at his siblings, my oldest son could not stop doing the wrong thing and making me repeat myself eleventy-billion friggin’ times, and my kindergartner still has yet to finish anything on his plate (and we wonder why he has weight issues) and I think he escaped from the table. He did. {snarls} All the girls were fine tonight at dinner, all the boys are trying to put me in an early grave. But hey, dinner was made of win.

Dinner made of awesome
Needless to say, kitchen is mostly cleaned, another load of laundry started, kids are beginning chores, and I’m ready for a nap. Or vodka.

And I forgot to take my apron off. And I’m still trying to capitalize numbers.

(Please, send margaritas. Forget the chocolate.)

9:00pm – Chores. Have I mentioned how well vacuuming goes over in our house? It doesn’t. Baby Dude is deathly. afraid. of the vacuum. {Cue lots of wailing and crying}

Scary vacuumsOy! Is it ever bedtime…

9:15pm – Hubby finally calls and it goes to hell in a hand basket. Both toddlers pooped and needed pajamas on, laundry needed folded and sorted, and chores were still being finished. Olders were caught in pajamas without showering and ordered to get in the bath. Meanwhile, Baby Dude destroyed all the nice neat piles trying to “help” while I returned the baskets to the laundry room, so I had to refold and re-stack everything.

Complete and utter failure, and hubby not only read about it (on this post) but heard it first hand while on the phone. Love it when he goes away.

Please, for the love of chocolate, let these kids fall asleep quickly, so I can drink some tea and watch some mindless TV to myself. I really, really need some peace and quiet tonight.

10:26pm – Baby Dude is down, hot tea is being heated in the microwave, and the rest of the kids are upstairs. I think I’m going to do some yoga while I steep my tea, and settle in for the night. It’s been a long one. I’m still so shocked by all I wrote (and did) today.

10:55pm – I am so disappointed. I had to go marching upstairs, yelling, because my four middle children were raising such a ruckus upstairs, watching T.V. in my bedroom, getting rowdy and loud. What the hell? They can stay up but that doesn’t entitle them to keeping their baby sister awake, which was a surprise to me that she even still was! I thought she’d fallen asleep on her own in the living room. Surprise! She’s upstairs cheering them on as they get louder and louder. {Smacks forehead} So, forget yoga, forget peace, I get to put her to sleep now because her siblings were too rude to stay quiet and let others rest. Un-friggin-believable.

I’m almost afraid to wish for tomorrow to come.

(On to day two)

Never miss a thing! Subscribe today for all kinds of crazy parenting fun!

Signature