Saturday, December 10, 2011

My Crazy Life...Kids, work, pets, vomit...oh my

How do I juggle a career as writer, a dirty day job, kids, pets, household....?!?

The answer is, "I don't."  This is a day in the crazy life of a writing mom...

Friday, December 9, 2011

6:30  My cell alarms. It's time to get up. Ughh...I snuggle deeper into the warmth of my blankets. Can I just sleep longer? No... I crawl out of bed and sleepily find my way down the hall, into the bathroom and lazily get into the shower. I slowly start to arouse.

6:50 First wake-up call for the kids.

6:55 Second wake-up call for the kids.

7:00 Third wake up call for the kids. This time my tone alerts them that there won't be a fourth call...

7:15 I stand in the kitchen and debate breakfast. I could make french toast, but I don't. I choose the simpler way...Poptarts. Okay, I add a fruit cup for nutritional reasons.

7:20 Coffee...I need coffee. When I say need, trust me, I do mean NEED. 

7:21 I hear arguing from the bathroom. I put on my selective hearing ability (Come on, we all have it). My capability is lacking this morning because I still hear the bickering between the girls. What are they arguing about? Who knows...probably who will get to brush their teeth first. I know it's coming...and then it does..."Mooooooom." It cuts through me like a razer blade as I take my first sip of strong instant coffee. I go in and break up an argument which I have no clue what it's about.

7:30 Every morning I have to hurry the girls along or they will miss the bus. I find I could just record my directions, "Get your socks, brush your hair, your hair will never dry if you have the dryer on your face and
not your hair, you're not wearing that !"

8:00 We pile into the vehicle and we wait for the bus. One daughter asks, "Call the doc. I want  braces." I tell her, "It's not so simple. Your mouth must be ready for braces." She rolls her eyes. "My mouth is ready." I sigh. "I'll call the doc then." There is a moment of hesitation, "You say that everyday."  In my defense, I don't say it everyday, but I find I fall into the robotic answers way too often because we seem to have the same discussions. I add calling the dentist to my already way-too-long mental list.

8:01 My wee one looks at me and says, "Why do you have to work?"  Me, "Because I have to earn a paycheck." Wee one, "Maybe I won't have to work when I'm older." Me, "Good luck with that. In the meantime, get an education." Wee one, "Huh?"  Me, "Exactly."

8:05 The bus rolls up. As my wee one climbs the too tall stairs that she can barely manage, she falls flat on her face. I wait, holding my breath. She gets up, I see her nod and the driver sends me an assured smile. I start breathing again.

8:15 I arrive at the dirty day job. No, it's not really "dirty." This is what writers call those places we go for 8 hours that keep us from what we love--writing.  Luckily, my day job isn't so bad.

12:00 I take one bit of my lunch and my cell rings. It's the school. My wee one is sick. I drive to the school and pick her up. Sure enough, she is sick. I take her with me to my office, fix her a bed on the floor and tell her she must drink and rest. It wasn't happening. 

2:30 Wee one decides she wants to sit at my desk and fall asleep. Ten minutes later her eyes come open and there is a look of fear on her face. She vomits. And guess where? Sure enough...all over my desk. Thankfully, I saved my cell and she missed the computer. However, she did get my fave gloves :( I threw them away. Unfortunately, she didn't miss herself either. She was covered.

3:30 Vomit is gone. Child is sleeping. I am working.

4:10 Home now. But a mother's work is never done. I have cleaning to do. Good times, good times on a Friday night !!!

5:00 I'm single. I hear more BS stories than I can stand. I won't go into detail. Really...I won't...

6:00 Dinner time. I tried out my culinary skills. Haha...I ordered pizza to be delivered. Pretty gourmet, eh?

7:00 Laptop is on. I'm prepared to work on my newest erotica. One hand hovered over keyboard when I heard, "Mom...I don't feel good." Bathroom issues for the wee one take priority over a love scene between my patient hero and heroine.

8:00 I sit down with my girls and we watch a Christmas movie. I tell myself to get back to the scene...I've made my hero wait long enough. But I was exhausted. Really exhausted. And my girls look so sweet. Neither is complaining or arguing. Precious moments, I say. Gotta take them while we have them.

9:30 I actually get to have adult conversation. I'm excited. A friend calls and we discuss political topics. Certainly not a fave Friday night chit-chat, but I won't complain.

12:30 I hear the wee one's soft footsteps as she comes up to my bed... "Mommy, I think I'm going to...." Me, "Run, child, run !!!!" We make a mad dash to the bathroom. We didn't make it in time. She missed the toilet by two feet. Pizza wasn't such a good idea after all.

1:00 The house is quiet. My eyelids are heavy. Sleep is on its way. Then I remember...I didn't call the dentist.

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