Day in the Life of a Stay-At-Home-Mom
6:15 a.m. Wake up to “Mommy? Mommmmmmy?” Put pillow over head. Prepare to play “Who can pretend to be asleep the longest?” with spouse.
6:30 a.m. Wake up to “Mommy, mommy, mommy!!! Come get me right now!!” (in stereo). Spouse rocks at this game.
7:00 a.m. Kids beg for pancakes. Make pancakes. Two-year old gets pancake batter on the table, the floor, his hair, and the VCR (yes, we still have a VCR. We’re retro). Kids refuse to eat pancakes.
7:30 a.m. Two-year old drags kitchen stool over to microwave. Attempts to microwave brother’s fire truck. Four-year retaliates by driving fire truck over his brother’s and, inexplicably, my toes. We all cry.
8:00 a.m. Watch Bob the Builder and eat marshmallows. Breakfast accomplished.
8:30 a.m. How is it possible that it’s only 8:30? Try to convince kids they are ready for an early nap. Fail. Do 18 loads of laundry.
10:00 a.m. Construct six-foot rocket ship out of nothing but cardboard and tinfoil.
10:30 a.m. Conduct brief, heated argument with four-year old about wing placement on rocket-ship, until I remember he is four. And it is his rocket-ship. And it’s made out of tin-foil.
12:00 p.m. Lunch. Two-year old eats a grilled cheese sandwich and eight pieces of watermelon. Four-year old eats a cheez-it.
12:30 p.m. Naptime. ‘Naptime’ is a term that loosely translates as 45 minutes of listening to “Mommy, I’m awake, mommy I’m awake, mommy come get me, mommy I’m awake,” sung to the tune of Farmer in the Dell.
2:30 p.m. Decide to paint rocket-ship. Collect smocks, drop cloth, paints, bowls, brushes, water, paper, wipes, and extra-strength Tylenol.
2:45 p.m. Comfort two-year old who doesn’t like paint on his hands, but loves putting his hands in paint.
3:30 p.m. Wipe floor that is covered in paint despite the drop-cloth, strip off children’s clothes covered in paint despite the smocks. Do 12 more loads of laundry.
3:45 p.m. Run bath. Four-year old refuses to get in bath.
4:00 p.m. Four-year old refuses to get out of bath.
4:30 p.m. Attempt to go to park. Spend half an hour looking for keys. Abandon search for keys. Watch Bob the Builder and eat marshmallows.
6:00 p.m. Cook dinner. Find keys in microwave. Two-year old eats entire pot of mac and cheese. Four-year old eats a grape.
7:00 p.m. Wrestle kids into pajamas, attempt to brush teeth in little mouths that are somehow simultaneously clamped shut and yet still screaming grievously. Read forty-four books. Sing thirty-seven songs.
8:00 p.m. Quietly close bedroom doors. Exhale.
8:15 pm. Collect starving four-year old from bedroom. Make him waffles.
9:00 p.m. Reflect on the nature of child-rearing, and how it has made me a wiser, stronger…just kidding. Drink extra large glass of wine and go to bed.
Peryl Manning is a freelance writer and stay-at-home-mother to two small boys. She juggles her home and her boys, her writing and her volunteer work with varying degrees of success, and is convinced of only one certainty: Parenting is really, really challenging. She blogs for the Seattle Post Intelligencer.
