Tales from the Mommy Trenches

A dear reader asked me to share a day in the life since Rhea has joined the family and we have finally settled in with a new routine that works for us.  Here is a typical rainy Tuesday for us.

7:00 am Rhea wakes up, I take her to bed with me and nurse her. I would change her diaper too, but I ran out of her diapers in the diaper bag downstairs and the rest are in Wren’s room and I am not risking waking Wren up. I try to fall back asleep, but it is difficult with a baby sticking her fingers in my mouth and cooing.

8:00 am I give up on trying to fall back asleep, and put Rhea in the Moses basket while I get dressed and fix my coffee. When I come back to the Moses basket she has fallen asleep, of course. I take advantage of the peace and quiet and check emails and social media. However, the internet is not working. I call Comcast and they tell me that the internet is down until probably 2 pm, but to feel free to check their website to see if it will be back up before then. Thanks, Comcast.

9:00 am I decide to fold the laundry that has been sitting in the dryer since last night. It is still damp. So, I put it back in the dryer and start it again. Scott claims that if I just put the right amount of clothing in the wash, it will dry fine. I have yet to find that magical load.

9:30 am I check on Ruth because she is usually up by 8:00, so clearly she is dead or grievously injured. Once I open the door, Ruth wakes up from her peaceful slumber. Whomp. Whomp. I fix Ruth’s breakfast while she gets herself dressed.

10:00 am I go to wake up Rose and Wren or else they will sleep until God knows when and our nap time will be thrown off. The madness begins. I take Rose to the potty and then get Wren out of her crib and change her diaper and take off her pajamas. I set Wren down as Rose streaks past her door. I chase Rose down and put on her favorite dress and brush her hair while I warn Wren to stay away from the stairs as she ambles by. I release Rose and get Wren dressed and take her downstairs.

10:30 am I line up bowls and sippy cups as I pour milk and Cheerios into their respective places and toss some bananas in there for good measure. I place them on the coffee table for the girls to graze upon. The girls take turns spilling all of their Cheerios on the floor and then eating them off the floor cleaning it up. Unbeknownst to me, Ruth has slipped upstairs to wake the baby and pull her Moses basket into the play room with her. I scold her for it and bring the now wide awake baby downstairs to nurse. Rhea gets distracted by my typing and won’t nurse. Ruth is wailing because I “hurt her feelings.” Flustered by all of this, I take a banana out of the peel, and throw away the banana while serving Wren the peel of what was supposed to be her second banana. Sorry, Wren. Wren makes do with Ruth’s banana. I try to grab it in time to save it, but Ruth proclaims it ruined. I give it back to Wren.

11:00 am I change Rhea and put her clothes on, and put her in the exersaucer so that I can change Wren’s morning accomplishment. I check on the older girls while I throw the diaper away in one of our many diaper genies upstairs. Ruth and Rose are playing with a stuffed Angelina Ballerina and running around trying to find the “key that will save her.” I inform them the key is most certainly not in my bathroom or bedroom. I come downstairs just in time to stop Wren from shoving her Cheerios in Rhea’s mouth.

11:30 am I check on Ruth and Rose, and they are coloring together on some white boards. I am amazed that they are still playing nicely with no squabbles. Wren is stacking blocks downstairs while Rhea watches her from her exersaucer. Rhea looks so cute, I just have to ‘gram her. Wren foils my efforts. Rhea plays with her toys moodily, clearly ready for a nap. I lay her down upstairs in my room and sternly warn the girls not to go in there.

11:40 am  Rose comes downstairs to have me put her princess dress on that she wears every day over her clothes. I resolve for the millionth time to teach her to put it on herself. Some day.

Noon: Time to prep for the lunch rush. I hear squabbles and tears break out upstairs in the play room and realize my time has run out. I coax the distraught older girls to come downstairs and eat. I put Wren in her high chair as all three are hangry at this time and melting down. I shove food and drinks in front of them as quickly as I can. Blessed silence reigns as they eat. I shovel my own food in my mouth so that I can be finished before the girls finish their lunches and come over here to beg for all of my food. You know, so I can enjoy my lunch.

12:30 pm Daddy comes home for lunch! I scour the fridge and freezer for something for him to eat that isn’t PB&J with yogurt and carrot sticks and find him some chicken pot pie. The girls are finished with their lunches and he spends his lunch fending them off. I grab some of their favorite books to read to them so that he can eat in peace.

1:00 pm Daddy heads back to work. Boo.

1:30 pm Wren starts being antagonistic toward her sisters. Time for a nap! As I put her down, I hear Rhea fussing in my room. I grab Rhea to take her downstairs and nurse her. I tell the older girls it is almost time for their naps. Ruth takes the initiative and goes upstairs to put herself down for her nap a little bit early. Rose “makes dinner” at the play kitchen downstairs. She had gone upstairs with Ruth right before Ruth laid herself down and Ruth put on Rose’s pull-up for her, apparently. Backwards, but it is on.

2:00 pm I put Rhea down on her mat with some toys to play and take Rose upstairs to put her down for her nap. Ruth’s room is dark and her door is closed. I am assuming that means she is asleep. Sure wish we had internet. I guess I’ll call the American Kidney Foundation to come and get this dining table and chairs in our garage. Some kind relatives donated a bigger dining set to us (a vast improvement over the tiny round dining table and 4 chairs for our family of six.) I used to take a nap with the girls at this time (so heavenly), but Rhea has been throwing a wrench in the works. Can’t wait to get her on the same nap schedule (although by that time Ruth will probably be too old for naps.)

2:30 pm Internet is back on! Let the time wasting begin while I watch Rhea roll around. Oh wait, or clean up from lunch.

2:45 pm Rhea is fussy so I put her upstairs for her nap. Rhea screams her head off and I hurriedly run upstairs to get her before she wakes everyone up. I am greeted by complete silence by the time I reach the door. I listen at the door for several seconds, and then decide against opening it and potentially waking her up.

3:30 pm Rhea is up again, and doesn’t seem keen on going back down. This is why I can’t have naps. I nurse her some more and play with her. After a while, she starts yawning and rubbing her eyes, so I put her back down upstairs.

State mandated break.

5:00 pm I hear scurrying upstairs as Ruth bounds down the stairs in a different outfit she went to bed in. I guess these children will be expecting dinner. I go upstairs to check on Rose and Wren. I was worried that Rose’s transition to a big girl bed would be like our horrific experience with Ruth where we couldn’t keep her in her bed for more than five minutes at a time. But I have to drag Rose out of her bed every morning and after every nap. A girl after my own heart. I go upstairs to find Rose quietly playing with stuffed animals in her bed. I ask her what she is playing. She says “the baby is getting a check up, Sylvia.” I asked her why she was calling me “Sylvia.” She said because that was the doctor that was addressing me. Ah. Then all of her stuffed animals had a birthday party for “Grandfather” (my dad) and the stuffed dog “bunny” was excited to give him his present (pink shoes). My dad will be receiving purple shoes from Sofia the First, apparently.  Sorry to ruin the surprise, Dad, if you are reading this. I tear myself away from her antics and open Wren’s door to find her still asleep. My sweet narcoleptic children. I pull her out of her crib because if she sleeps any longer, bed time will be a mess. She insists on bringing blankie with her.

5:30 pm Someone has a hard time being quiet (I’m looking at you, Rose) and the baby starts wailing awake from her nap. Ok, change of plan. Plan B: throw some snacks at the older girls so that I can nurse the baby. Dinner time: not looking promising.

5:45 pm Parked the kids in front of the TV (and Rhea in the exersaucer) and am starting dinner. It is survival mode, here. If I don’t give them some screen time, they all push chairs over and hover around me and the hot stove. Wren will probably be clinging to my leg the whole time anyway. She is not much of a TV fan.

6:00 pm Here come the chairs, scraping against the floor. I guess I should have picked something more interesting than Curious George. They have taken their little plastic utensils out of the drawer and are going to “help” me peel potatoes.

6:05 pm Crap! Scott is home and I have no warm plate to offer him and my pearls and heels are still upstairs. Bad repressed Christian wife! I immediately request that he keep all of the children entertained while I finish dinner. (Even worse repressed wife).

6:55 pm Dinner is in the oven. I guess we’ll eat on European time. At least the girls aren’t trying to eat each other yet. Scott wonders aloud if he is watching the kids movie by himself. Yes, you are, Scott. Yes, you are.

7:15 pm Dinner is served! Everyone chows down as Rhea fusses. I eat quickly and try to keep her occupied. Nope, she is just sleepy and wants her night nurse. So I change her and put her in her PJs and nurse her to sleep. Then, I put her in her cradle. This is a good night (so far) so she stays asleep! Victory is mine.

8:00 pm Daddy takes the three older girls upstairs for their bath. I clean up the kitchen and head upstairs to help him control the chaos. We put them in their pajamas, brush their teeth and hair, read them their books (Rose wants “The Princess and the Potty” every freaking night), say our prayers (they like to assume their prayer positions at the head and foot of Ruth’s bed) and tuck them in.

Then I do my happy dance and stay up way too late before I have to go to bed and do it all over again. Sorry about the novel length post. Believe it or not, I omitted most of the menial, boring tasks I performed. Brevity is clearly not my strong suit.