Had ‘one of those days’ last week…….
5:30am – Alarm goes off. Ignore. Hit snooze. Notice two foreign beings in your bed that weren’t there when you got into bed 3 hours ago.
5:35am – Repeat
5:55am – Shit, Shit, Shit, slept in….late again! SMS girlfriend to say you’ll be late for morning walk. She too is a working Mum and has slept in. PHEW.
6:10am – Beg friend to take the ‘easy walk’ today due to no other reason than you live in an area called ‘The Hills” – it was named that for a reason. She takes no convincing. Easy walk it is.
6:00am – 7:00am – Walk a long way whilst discussing life and the universe in pleasant zen like state whilst sucking in car fumes from busy main road which is the only flat road in the entire suburb. Exercise done. Burned no calories at all, too busy talking but feel better for moving anywhere that isn’t in a car.
7:03am – 8:30am – Home. Start screaming. Wake the final few who are still in a luxurious slumber. Negotiate with 4 demanding children over lunch preferences which ends in nothing healthy at all being embedded in lunchboxes. Scream about shoes being put on for the fifth time. Scream something or other about being responsible for their own hats each morning. Scream at The Big Guy for no reason at all. Load them all into the car and usher The Big Guy & kids out of the driveway like an air traffic controller just to ensure they all leave and don’t come back.
8:31am: No people in house. Baby then starts screaming. Baby screams more when realizing that you are in the shower and there’s more than 30cms between you and him. It’s utterly devastating. For him, not you.
8:34am: Blow dry hair whilst wondering how you can do a fairly decent job in 4 minutes when the hairdresser takes 1.5hrs to do the same job. Baby has, in the meantime, destroyed every room in the house. Whatever.
8:39am: Make up. No time to choose colours. Foundation: tick. Mascara: tick. Lipgloss: Tick. Big earrings to take attention away from tired eyes, wrinkles and tummy: tick.
8:43am: Discover hardened Weet Bix everywhere. Pour boiling water over Weet-Bix promising self to clean up when home. Curse everyone else for not seeing mess.
8:45am: Pack baby bag, almost ready to leave the house and…baby has a filthy nappy. Happens. Every. Time.
8:47am: Ready to leave only to discover that The Big Guy took the good car that you take to meetings to pretend you don’t really drive a people moving Tarago during the week. Tarago it is then. Drive over 20kms to sister’s house who is minding baby whilst you go to work.
9:15am: Small chit chat with Dad and friends at sister’s house who are relaxed and enjoying their morning. Act in control and all important and shit as if you have it all under control. If only they knew.
9:15am – 1:30pm – Drive more. Go to meetings and achieve loads whilst working and actually enjoying it.
1:30pm – Sister calls. Baby is sick. Don’t worry but he’s really sick and needs medication. YES YES YES – load him with Panadol please, thank you and sorry that he’ll now infect your two little people. Be there soon. Drive at breakneck speed – another 20kms back to save infected baby.
2:00pm – Baby home. Put to sleep. Too sick to sleep but you figure now is as good as time as any to implement toddler discipline plan. NO I WILL NOT COME AND GET YOU OUT OF YOUR COT BECAUSE YOU ARE SCREAMING. YOU NEED SLEEP AND MUM NEEDS TO WORK.
2:00pm – 5:30pm: A blur of pre-school pick ups, screaming about healthy afternoon teas, spelling words, lost readers, lost passwords for new fandangled website thingy that homework is now conducted on. Ponder why you sent your kids to a religious school when you don’t know the answers to their religion homework. Promise self to go to church more regularly to become well rounded and knowledable parent. Make dinner, hide some veges. Fight over what the actual ‘green’ stuff you’ve hidden in food really is. Bribe. Threaten. Give in. Ok YES, you can watch the Olympics. Well it’s educational isn’t it?
5:30pm: Order everyone into showers and vow to get all children into bed at 6:00pm (mentally knowing that it’s 2hrs at least till the sun goes down, who on earth are you kidding).
5:35pm: Realise that nice clothes you put on for earlier meetings are now covered in snot from sick baby and mascara has been on for too long, it’s starting to make you cry. Change entire outfit. Create third lot of washing for the day.
6:53pm: Big guy comes home, swap keys and leave for school meeting.
7:00pm: Teachers start talking Maths, you want to understand, really you do but not being mathematically minded you have NO FRIGGING IDEA what they are talking about. You mentally commit to re-sitting the HSC knowing this is bollocks and you will simply divert maths questions to the Big Guy.
9:30pm: Clean up Weet-Bix from earlier in the morning. Follow up on meetings from earlier in the day. Have a cup of tea, congratulate self on not eating a lot during the day by eating some chocolate.
Midnight: Fall asleep where you are.
Next Day: Repeat.
I TAKE MY HAT OFF TO WORKING MUMS. It’s never been a competition over who has it tougher, the working Mum or the Stay at Home Mum but far out, won’t be repeating that performance too often.