Hear Nathan’s morning grouching on the baby monitor. $#@! Fall out of bed and walk like Frankenstein to the bathroom to relieve my bladder and find my slippers.
Fling various questions and instructions at Sarah Kate (Did you brush your teeth? Have you made up your bed? Please stop talking and finish your breakfast! You need your sweater today. Why does your hair look like that?) while simultaneously feeding Nathan his bottle and attending to the dog’s incessant ringing of the bell to go outside.
Alternate between desk/computer work and playing with Nathan because he insists on eye contact and smile-backs during all of his waking hours. Check nothing off of my to-do list.
Realize that Sarah Kate’s Thanksgiving lunch at school is TODAY at noon. $#@! Call Mr. Andi and remind him. Discuss skipping it altogether. Decide that failing to show up would qualify us for Worst Parents in the World honors. Grudgingly decide to attend.
Throw on running clothes and strap Nathan into the baby jogger, as my plans to run at noon-ish have now gone awry. Pray that he falls asleep in the jogger. Tell myself that I will start the laundry when I return. Promptly forget about the laundry.
Return home from running. Deposit sleeping Nathan into his crib. Start the water running for a shower. Let the dog out to do her business again. Yell at the dog when she ignores my calls for her to return to the house. Walk around to the back of the house where the dog is considering chasing the stray cat that Mr. Andi brought home last week.
Finally make it into the shower. Put on a little bit of makeup and semi-decent attire for Thanksgiving lunch in the cafeteria.
Feed Nathan while simultaneously using my new iPhone to search for a protective case for said new iPhone.
Let the $#@! dog out to do her business again. Watch her as she searches the yard for the stray cat. Yell at the dog to come back in the house. Chase the dog into the garage, which is where she last saw the cat.
Drive to the chiropractor’s office for an adjustment. Puff up with pride when she says “I saw you running on Sunday. How far did you run?” and I reply “16 miles”. Realize that the praise she subsequently lavishes on me is probably buttering me up so I will keep coming in, but enjoy the ego boost, anyway.
Decide that while I’m out I’ll go to the cellular retailer to see if they have a case that AT&T didn’t. Curse the city ordinances that require trees on the highway right-of-way because they block my view of the storefronts and I’m not exactly sure where the store is located. Go home instead.
Continue my alternating computer/Nathan routine. Let the dog out again. Chase the dog back into the garage. Check nothing off of the to-do list.
Pick up Mr. Andi at his office so we can attend the Blessed Thanksgiving Event. Spend the next hour fielding questions from eight year olds and trying to keep Nathan from grabbing my glass of tea. Fail at the latter and push my tea-flooded tray away. Return Mr. Andi to his office.
Arrive home to find Nathan asleep in his carseat. Realize his diaper was last changed at 10:00. Debate benefits and pitfalls of putting him down without changing him. Decide to change him.
Attempt desk/computer work for the third time. Pride myself on being semi-productive for the next half hour. Realize at 1:32 that I forgot to put dinner in the crockpot for later. $#@! Remember that I haven’t yet started the laundry. Promptly forget about the laundry.
Feed Nathan again while using my iPhone to catch up on some blogs that I follow. Forward to Mr. Andi a news article about a woman having her newborn taken away after she tested positive for opium because she ate an everything bagel from Dunkin’ Donuts. Suggest in my email that Mr. Andi should stop eating everything bagels.
Head to the school to pick up Sarah Kate and Neighbor Girl H. Silently wish that my Toyota had a privacy screen that I could raise up between the front and back seats. Realize I still have not started the laundry and vow to do it as soon as I get back home. Promptly forget about the laundry.
Let the dog outside again. Follow her like the paparazzi to insure that she does her business and returns immediately to the house.
Drive Sarah Kate to swim practice with a draft printout of my Sorority magazine because I have not had a chance to finish the edits on the computer today. Attempt to mark up the draft but ultimately give up because Nathan is continuing to insist on eye contact and smile-backs. Stuff the draft back into my backpack.
Upon arriving home, agree to let Sarah Kate go to Neighbor Girl H’s house for a half hour to play. Decide that we are now having taco salad for dinner and begin preparations. Find out Mr. Andi is leaving in 20 minutes to go back to work. Answer the phone to find that the Sarah Kate is actually at Neighbor Girl P’s house and she now wants Sarah Kate to go eat Mexican food with her family.
Put Nathan in the highchair to feed him. Start the “Wheels on the Bus” song and facial exercises recommended by the OT. Wonder if dinner for one is worth the effort. Thank the heavens above when Mr. Andi offers to throw together a taco salad for one while Nathan is eating.
Ignore the dog when she rings the bell to go out because I can see the stray cat looking through the window.
Answer Sarah Kate’s call from Neighbor Girl P’s house. Agree to let her spend the night with Neighbor Girl P because tomorrow is a holiday. Thank the heavens once again for small favors.
Put Nathan in the bed and breathe a sigh of relief that this day is almost over. Decide that the magazine edits can wait until Thursday morning.
Remember that I never started the laundry. $#@!