So let me start with an introduction. Like I said, I've got two wonderful boys. Riley is my oldest kiddo coming in at 19 months, 31 inches, and 25 and someodd pounds (I still think he feels like a hundred though as he always wants to be picked up-he raises his little hands and twists his fingers in the air with the smile of an angel and a devlish attitude to demand being picked up so). My youngest, Bryan, is 5 weeks, 20 1/2 inches (maybe), and about 10 pounds (I think). My other child (the husband) is 33 years old and works in the home building industry. Myself, I'm currently home on maternity leave, but I'm a teacher most of the time.
Being on maternity leave is like a false sense of security. You think you can accomplish all you need to do, but that never happens. You start on one chore, get easily distracted, wind up posting your life away on Facebook or sleeping. Other times though, you run around like a chicken with your head cut off five minutes before your dear husband comes home so you can pretend that you cleaned all day long, but truly you did for the last few minutes. Don't tell him I said that though. Truth be told, I do end up doing the majority of the household chores.
Well today's blog includes my schedule - I got up at 6:45 AM after a night filled with nursing sessions. This was tiring because Riley started with his screaming for things that he refuses to name. I decoded his screams/grunts as "Mom, get me a f'ing banana right now!" Yup, that's what he wanted. Then he proceeded to scream while I cleaned his stinky poop filled tooshie. Finally, I wrestled clothes onto him and he began his babble about "Shoes," as he thus proceeded to throw all five pairs he owns around his room. Eventually we were done with our morning conundrums and craziness and proceeded to wake the little billy goat baby from his peaceful slumber. Then I loaded the kids into the Expedition and set off to go to Dunkin Donuts and grab some munchkins for the daycare teachers. The person at the window was godsend. She separated five into a bag for me and actually told me that I was so nice they threw in some extras. I felt special and I hadn't even finished my own morning cup of happiness (coffee)-they must not truly know me I thought to myself.
Eventually I arrived in the rain to school. Today I decided to park on the side of the building instead of the front. Reason being, I end up talking to everyone and hold up traffic. I thought that was super sweet of me as I was lugging out the baby's stroller and daydreaming of a nap when a voice appeared out of nowhere. Sure enough, Riley's teacher was wishing me a good day and offering to help with the munchkins. She was lucky I wasn't still preggers though because in my reverie and my own world, I jumped out of my socks and sure enough could've gone into labor-just saying. So I pushed my happy baby stroller in with one hand and carried Riley with the other and it was inti daycare he went. Lucky for me, his breakfast was on the table and he was happy to see me go.
So home I went. What did I actually accomplish though today? Well I've kept my 5-week-old alive, put a load of laundry in the washer and the dryer (where it remains), took some pictures of clothes, ran the dishwasher, called the vet, and relieved my engorged boobs by pumping away. That's a lot to do or so I think it is. If you want to disagree though, come over and I'll punch you :) Just kidding.
Bryan (he just peed on me so he's smirking)
Riley ready to throw his cars everywhere (notice the evil grin)
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