Here’s a fun “A Day In The Life” post that is full of my #MomLife status (if you want to read the last one I wrote, you can find it here). In all honesty, I know I’ll look back and want to remember the little things of this season of motherhood. I know the phrase “The days are long, but the years are short” really is true, and it’s something I remind myself daily when I’m in the trenches (achem, yesterday).
My alarm went off at 4:15, and again at 4:25. I mumbled something to myself about how much I hate myself for setting it, and then marvel at how warm my bed is. The remembrance that my running partner will be waiting for me, drags me out of bed and I fumble around in our dark bedroom for anything that could be considered close to pants. I tiptoe down the stairs while holding my breath that our incredibly squeaky steps don’t wake the baby… and ask myself for the 47th time that week, WHY we haven’t fixed them (can squeaky steps even be fixed?). I grab my keys, head to the car, and drive to meet my running partner. We both mumble something about “why do we get up this early??”, and start out on our chilly run. 2.5 miles later, we both voice how glad we are that we got up and then both head home.
It’s now 5:35 am, and the only man I want to see is George. Hello, darling… thank you for always being there for me… You always know how to warm me up in all the right places.
I turn on a little Jesus Culture and the next 1.5 hours are spent having devotions, doing a little online Christmas shopping, catching up on a few of my favorite blogs, and then doing some blogging of my own.
At 7, I mix up some Cranberry Orange Bread (because, you know, I’ll need a reason to get up and run tomorrow morning. I talked about how delicious it was on Friday in this post), pop it in the oven, and basically my house starts to smell like Christmas. I tidy up the kitchen and living room (usually, we always try to do that the night before so that we can wake up to a clean house, but that didn’t happen this time), and start hearing the troops rustling upstairs. I make a second cup of coffee and head upstairs to get my marching orders from the 3 And Under crowd.
The idea was to get everybody dressed and head to the kitchen, but alas, the pants that my toddler insists on wearing are in the clean laundry downstairs (story of my life). Soooo, we march downstairs with a certain little pants-less somebody to start our day. Breakfast for everyone, and then Josh heads to work.
I tidy up the kitchen while the littles
destroy play in the living room and we may or may not have a little worship music dance party with Bethel on Pandora. Oh, and then I throw some more laundry in the washing machine like every other good mom, because basically, that’s all we do… or should do… 25 hours out of every single day (see what I did there?).
Little Sister goes down for her nap, and her big sister and I decide to tackle her Paw Patrol coloring book. We have sniffly noses at our house right now, so an hour later, Big Sister takes a nap too. I manage to do some more tidying up, and also label the baby food in the pantry so that I don’t have to get a magnifying glass to read what the flavors actually are (and yes, I have plans to get out my Baby Bullet and make my own… but seriously… ensuring that we have semi-clean clothes to wear on a semi-daily basis takes any free time I have right now).
An hour later, everybody’s up, and it’s LUNCHTIME!
Then a little of this…
And then, Josh surprises us by working in the door feeling a little under the weather. He is off to take a nap, and we play for awhile.
Then, everybody takes a round of immune system-boosting vitamins (can I still be a #CrunchyMama even though I’m not currently making my own baby food??) and then time for the littles to take a second nap, because ain’t nobody got time for colds.
This time, however, there is an hour-long toddler meltdown over how she needs a tissue in the bed with her… but it can’t be wrinkled… and it has to be laid down in a certain position on the bed… y’all, I can’t even make this stuff up… an hour later, she’s finally in bed, and I call my Mom with all kinds of “MOM, I LOVE MY KIDS BUT I’M ABOUT TO LOSE MY EVER-LOVING MIND” and she tells me all sorts of helpful, encouraging tips about raising strong-willed children who have… um… leadership qualities. Since Josh is home and everybody is napping, I throw dinner in the slow-cooker and head out for more echinacea drops (there’s my #CrunchyMamaWannabe coming out again).
Driving in a silent minivan does the equivalent of an all-expenses-paid Bahamas vacation for me, and I decide to swing through Starbucks. One of my Mom Friends who lives a couple neighborhoods over from me miiiiiight have posted a picture of the 2 dozen eggs her toddler had just dumped on her kitchen floor, so I decide to double-up my order and drop a heavily caffeinated latte by her house on my way home (especially since she’s done this for me several times already). Us toddler mamas have to stick together.
I get back home, the troops are very vocal about being awake, and we head downstairs to
destroy play in the living room. They play while I finish up dinner. I once again genuinely thank the Lord for the invention of slow-cookers (I almost love my slow-cooker as much as my coffeepot… almost).
After dinner, there’s more playtime, cleaning the dishes, storytime and Little Sister heads to bed.
We pull out the craft basket for a little while, and then cuddle up on the couch with an episode of Paw Patrol. I realize how grateful I am for this crazy wonderful life, and how much I genuinely love being a mom… even if it does include hour-long meltdowns over how wrinkled a tissue can be.
We have a family tickle party and then Big Sister heads off to bed. Josh and I end the evening with a bowl of popcorn, a little of the GOP debate (the channel got fuzzy after a few minutes), and an episode of Glades.
Lights out at 10:45.