Parents all know the routine. You have a similar night every weeknight when your kids are young.
Non-parents, you’ll never understand the sheer eventfulness of coming home on a weeknight. Your used to coming home whipping up some dinner, having your glass of wine, and catching the latest episode of your favorite show. Let me tell you what your missing.
After work I head to pick up my kids from daycare. Sometimes that is the same place and sometimes that’s two different places. For this specific explanation let’s go with them being at the same place. Arrive at daycare and get the low down of baby’s day, load her in her carrier and then try to get a three year old away from a giant room full of toys, superman capes, all his friends, and his favorite daycare teacher. After showing me everything in the room (twice), we are out.
Heading home both have dirty laundry, both hungry, want dinner, and need baths. Walk in the house and make a bottle. Easton goes straight to the cupboard and starts digging for food. Just about dumps noodles all over the floor because he just wants plain noodles. “Mom I’m hungry I need food now. Mom I said I’m hungry what can I eat.” Get him food (yogurt, waffle, string cheese, yes he picked it all out), start laundry and cook while Cory feeds the baby. Suddenly realize there is a dog attached to my right leg staring at me with those big hungry eyes and jumping with every step I take. So I go to scoop the dog food and suddenly, “MOM! I NEED TO FEED ROZ!” After several confirmations that the scoop of dog food was the right size followed by another 20 minutes washing his hands, Easton is back at the table to finish his food. Start eating my own dinner and suddenly Easton has to go poop. “Race you to the bathroom mom”, trips on the way there and panic ensues because I might beat him to the bathroom. I don’t. Once we arrive at the bathroom we have a heated discussion about whether or not Mr. Bear should be coming in the bathroom. After valid arguements for and against (for: he will be sad if he doesn’t, against: there are gross germs in the bathroom), Mr Bear waited outside. Once Easton is sitting on the toilet he says “mom go in the living room” (God forbid I pee alone but the three year old should have his privacy). I go back in the bathroom when I here “mom, I’m all done”, and he has half the toilet paper roll in his hand and says “here I got this for you.” After telling me five times that my soap is orange and then announcing that he has Olaf soap we are done in the bathroom. We all finish eating dinner, then on to team tubbies after that, throw both in and get the baby clean then let Cory finish getting Easton scrubbed and rinsed. Everyone is clean and in Jammie’s.
Continue the night with a dance party in the kitchen to Disney music. “Ah mom, we didn’t have any music in the tub, I need my music.” Guaranteed the seaweed is not greener in anyone else’s lake 😉.
“Mom, I’m still hungry I want an egg and a pudding.” Feed Easton again. Baby’s hangry again. Trying to get a bottle ready and get milk for the three year old that’s saying “mom, I said please where’s my milk?” Use the dog to try and calm the baby down to buy some time until the bottle’s ready.
Feed baby while Easton talks nonstop barely breathing between words while eating pudding. I brush Easton’s teeth, then Easton brushes his own teeth. Put Easton to bed after reorganizing stuffed animals, needing blankets in a certain order, requesting water, needing to blow his nose, suddenly having to go potty after being asked seven times five minutes ago and denying having to go.
Baby is napping at this point so it’s time to switch the laundry and clean up from dinner. Since there is just as much chaos in the morning we get everything set up for tomorrow tonight. This includes putting together parts of lunches, baby’s diaper bag, extra clothes for Easton since he came home in his spare set, coffee pot set to brew at 6am, set out my work clothes and both the kids outfits, prep a bottle, make sure the blender is clean, and clean the dog toys up in the living room so my “gym” is ready in the morning.
Finish the night with one more bottle for the baby, tucking her in an hour later, crawling in to bed by 10pm and setting the alarm clock for 4:30am to start the chaos over in the morning. No matter how much prep is done the night before there’s still no time to dry hair or put on make up in the morning but for some reason it just doesn’t matter (as long as you remember the deodorant it’s all good) . You do the best you can with what you have (right mom?). 😄
You learn to live inside the craziness and you become immune to what others think is loony tunes. For every dance party there’s a hissy fit, and for every crash and burn there’s an ABC song with no missed letters, or a kid who can finally stand up on the ice in his hockey skates. It’s worth every minute of the chaos and better than any episode of any show there is. You laugh, you cry, you get angry, you get confused, and every once in a while you feel like you hit the Spanish button because you can’t understand what anyone is saying.
So cheers to all the crazy parents of crazy kids (literally put your drink up because I know your having a cocktail by now). May your days be more entertaining than your favorite shows. No matter what you are doing or how you are keeping up with the craziness, you are doing, which means you are doing something right.