I've often thought it was ridiculous how much could happen to Jack Bauer in just 24 hours. But let me recount my last 24.
Tuesday 8 am--Scallywag gets on his bus, which came late on the day I really needed it to be on time. I turn off Poopy Pirate's show to get him dressed to go to the doctor for Captain Tootypants' four month visit (two weeks late). Pirate has his first tantrum of the day and I hold him down to dress him and wrestle him into the car. Tootypants begins crying because he woke up at six and is wanting his first nap. The clinic is not where I thought it was and I end up fifteen minutes late.
9am--I call the clinic in L**** to ask them to fax Tootypants' shot record to my new clinic. I fill out the paperwork while Tootypants cries and Pirate pulls out every toy in the place. We see the doctor who is really nice but find out that poor Tootypants is in single digits for both height and weight. The first of my children to earn this auspicious honor prior to their second birthday. We wait for the shot nurse. . . . and wait. . . . and wait. . . . Tootypants falls asleep in my arms while Pirate runs around the tiny exam room throwing his second (or third?) tantrum of the day.
10am--I get to the car and call the moms I'm supposed to have at my house for pre-school right at that minute to tell them I'll be late. I'm home about four minutes when we start preschool. We sing songs, I try to keep the kids out of the toys (it is their first day and they just want to play), and try to interpret the language of 2 1/2 year olds that are not my own. Princess Pink (one of the pre-schoolers) poops. She won't let me change her. We get out the playdoh (this is NOT a euphamism for poop.)
11 am--I referee playdoh while I clean up the breakfast dishes. I tell Cutie Haircut (another pre-schooler) that she can't mix the colors. She says nothing and just gives me THE LOOK while digging in deeper to the white she had and the red she stole from Princess Pink. She squeezes the mass defiantly in her chubby patties and I just decide there are some things not worth fighting over. Yellow eventually makes it into the mix. I read stories to Princess (stinky) Pink and Pirate while Cutie Haircut destroys the rest of the Playdoh. Play time! I pass out fruit snacks while Pirate walks around telling everybody what to play with. He also poops so Princess Stinky doesn't feel so lonely. Scallywag gets off the bus and yelps, "What are all these babies doing in the house!" He then demands a peanut butter sandwich because kindy snack time was only a square piece of cinnamon cake, not a triangle. Mommys come.
Noon--Clean up, lunch, Diego's Animal Safari rescue and some house clean up. Change to the big-boy pants because Poopy wants peep-treats instead of lunch. Tantrum # whatever we are on ensues.
One pm--Baby wakes up and all that comes with a child who had four shots in his less than chubby legs just a few hours before.
Two--Baby goes back down. Kids go outside. The neighbors are putting up a new fence and have taken out the old one, so if the kids are disobedient then they can easily walk through two yards and jump right into the open pool I didn't even know was on the block. Thankfully, kids are obedient and fascinated watching the worker-guys. Why do they always have to smoke? Three and four wasn't super busy. Just the typical mom stuff and house cleaning and never-ending laundry. Mommy gets a few minutes of down time.
Four--Comb hair and do make up. Change clothes. Run off Mapquest directions to the tutoring center where I will go to meet my first client. Plantboy comes home and gets his "instructions" for dinner, etc. I wake up the baby and feed him.
Five--Drive through half and hour of horrific traffic to get to the center. Meet my client. My cellphone rings, but I don't pick it up or look at the number. In the seven o'clock hour I find out that it was my home teacher who tried to call before dropping by, but dropped by anyway. I spend a half and hour working through six homework problems. Negative and positive numbers.
Six--I try to help my student through his science homework because it is covering the same concepts he is STRUGGLING with in math. I hope the CAPS show some of the mightyness of his struggle. He doesn't get it. Not. At. All. I meet Dad who happens to be a principle at a local high school. I think we may have some reasonable expectation problems here. Drive home through lesser traffic though still a pain. I turn my IPod way up. I listen to Keith Urban's Stupid Boy about three times. No reason. It is just a good wailing song.
Seven-- I come in the door to a nice spaghetti dinner, or at least I think it will be. The baby takes one look at me and starts wailing. Apparently Tootypants had been angelic until he saw me, but one look at Pirate's red, blotchy eyes told me that he had been less than happy during Daddy in charge time. Another look at Plantboy's face told me the same. Hold baby while I eat cold spaghetti. Hand off baby for Plantboy to change his horrificly stinky (cloth) diaper, sort laundry, help Scallywag clean up toys, Pirate refuses to help and has to be put in the tub kicking and screaming. I am soaked by the time he comes out. Put Scallywag in the shower, nurse baby while Plantboy deals with Pirate.
Eight--Put down Pirate and Tootypants, they fall asleep almost immediately. Small favors. Read to Scallywag, put him down. Go through Tuesday folder items and write out check for school pictures, wishing that Scallywag didn't have that big black bruise on his face where he and Pirate head butted each other while jumping on my bed. Remind Scallywag not to sing the alphabet song at the top of his lungs in the bedroom he shares with two sleeping brothers.
Nine--Begin to do dishes and decide I'm just too tired and want to go to bed. Then, for some reason I begin going through all of the products in the house hunting for Box Tops For Education.
Ten--Go to bed. As soon as I lay down, Scallywag begins crying and whimpering. I go into him. He is hot and grouchy and his cold medicine hasn't really kicked in yet. I change his pajamas and put him back in bed. Fifteen minutes later he begins calling out and crying again. He tells Plantboy he is scared of monsters. They pray, talk for the hundredth time about monsters not being real and put him back to bed. He lays next to me and tells me he is afraid of Star Wars. Plantboy moves him when he drifts off.
Midnight--Again with the monsters and Scallywag. I move him out to the couch where it is cooler and there is more light. Sweet Sleep.
Two am--Nurse the baby. He doesn't eat well, so I know he'll be up again, but I'm so exhausted I fall immediately asleep. Go back to bed.
Five am--Baby wakes up again. Plantboy's alarm goes off at 5:30 because it is Ride Your Bike To Work Day. Baby won't go back to sleep, but lays in bed squealing at me for half and hour.
Six am--Bounce baby to keep him happy to avoid waking up big brothers. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. He is finally relaxed enough to lay down, but there is no point in trying to sleep as the big kids will be up any minute.
Seven-twenty am--I should have gone back to sleep. Surprisingly, they woke up very cheerfully and Scallywag even made his bus on time.
At eight I should have gone to sleep for at least thirty minutes while Pirate watched his last show of the morning, but I kept thinking the baby wouldn't last much longer. Again, mistake. Because here I am blogging and the baby is still sleeping. . . . only now the pirate is poopy again.
And just when I thought it had been a VERY long day, my mother calls to tell me that my sister is down and out with strep throat and a kidney stone. It can always get worse. :) Hopefully blogging my own version of 24 will keep a smile on my face through this inevitably exhausting day. And if it puts a smile on a few of your faces then it is as good as saving the world.