4:40 am wake up because I think I hear a noise outside. I go down to investigate. Twice. The mystery remains unsolved.
6:15 wake up to the sound of my daughter’s voice. She had previously been instructed to play in her room upon waking until we come to get her (since the past few days have been so brutal. I hear her announce “Time for my morning pee!”
I see the light on in her room and let her play alone until 6:30 when I go in to greet her. I figure I need to capitalize on my time for the wardrobe negotiations. Today was actually easier than most, as I had just bought her a dress the day before that was blue and Elsa-ish enough. Because she is Elsa.
7:09 I wake up my husband by poking his back, as we both have to leave, separately, for an appointment at 8.
He gets up. I put my daughter in front of “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” in the living room and hand her a yogurt smoothie, orange juice and a plain tortilla.
Since my closet is in my son’s room, and my son was still sound asleep, I had to find an outfit to wear from the clean, folded, but not-yet-put-away bin in our room. I put on yoga pants and a shirt that is too big so I tied it in a knot. It is orange, which is my least favorite color, but the shirt is OK.
7:45 my mom arrives to watch the kids and the baby starts to stir.
8:00-9:00 my husband and I go to a joint appointment with this therapist. Since my experience with Postpartum Depression he, as my primary caregiver, was advised to seek help of his own. It has been wonderful for him. Today she wanted to meet me.
9:00 kiss my husband goodbye, part ways, cry on my way home. Because the stuff we talked about is hard. This year has been freakin’ hard.
9:20 arrive home, pick up my daughter, miss car line so I walk her in to school, with a potty stop along the way.
9:30 arrive home again to my mom and the baby. Do a few errands. Baby is asleep in his carseat so I try to capitalize on his slumber by taking him on a walk.
11:30 arrive home, yet again, and catch up on last night’s Real Housewives of New York while the baby sleeps in his seat.
12:00 Give baby his bottle
12:30 leave to pick up daughter from school and am third in carline.
12:45 THIS.
2:00 our beloved, blessed babysitter arrives and my daughter is thrilled. I give my baby another bottle (because he had a touch of the stomach flu that afflicted all of us over the weekend, I had to give him tiny frequent meals all day, alternating between Pedialyte and Formula). As I feed him, he falls asleep in my arms. I am so hungry and so bored but I can not move an inch lest I wake the baby.
3:00 Baby finally wakes up and I manage, with one arm, to put away his newest shipment of baby wipes, throw in a load of laundry, and eat 3 Pepper crackers, a Polly-O string cheese and 5 ginger snaps.
3:30 Receive photos in the mail from Lindsay Docherty Photography and melt. My mom walks over to see them.
4:00 the babysitter returns with my daughter from the park. The baby is fussing, so I decide to take him on another walk, up and down the street, so that he could sleep. He never cries, so I knew he wasn’t feeling well and it tugged at me.
4:30 come home, ask the babysitter if she can stay a bit longer, run down the switch the laundry, put away the already clean and folded laundry in all 3 bedrooms, put the wipes that didn’t fit into the locker in the baby’s room down the basement, unload the dishwasher, wash and chop cauliflower to roast and get it in the oven.
5:00 Time for babysitter to leave. We sit on the floor of the playroom and chat a bit. About life. She’s amazing. The best.
5:10 Receive a text from my husband that he is still in a meeting and will be late. I rebuild a cardboard play castle for my daughter that had partially broken. Take a picture of baby in the Obama t-shirt from our best friends and post it on Facebook.
5:20 Put baby in his Jumperoo and literally run out of the room, stealthily, while he is distracted so he does not see me leave and start to cry.
Make dinner for my daughter. A turkey sandwich and the aforementioned cauliflower. It would have been roasted chicken if the husband weren’t running late, but she enjoyed it just fine.
Feed daughter, run her to the bathroom mid-meal because she tells me that that she has that “throw up feeling again”. Evidently, she was mistaken.
5:50 Pick up baby from his jumperoo and sit down to write this note on my iPhone. When I look down I see that I have not yet taken off my winter scarf.
6:05  Husband arrives home and I can exhale.
So, how was your day?