If Mama Ain’t Happy, Ain’t Nobody Happy.
Doesn’t this statement make things seem like everyone should be trying to help the Mama?
That Mama should be able to take time for herself, beyond the ONE time a day she gets to pee alone, which is usually after bed time?
Because a balanced Mama is a happy one.
Who came up with this slogan? A man? Because in my world, it’s more like If Mama doesn’t get a time out for herself in exactly 3.2 seconds, her head will explode.
And I don’t have time for that shit.
8:00am. Wake up. Make coffee, change diaper, make a breakfast-something for the Bubba.
9:00am. Say goodbye to DH for the day. Sometimes this includes driving him to the train.
9:15am. Make lists of things I need to do that will never get done. Keep trying to get the kid to eat his breakfast. Start the previous night’s dishes.
10:00am. Try to keep the Bubba busy while I keep doing other things (DISHES, mainly. A dishwasher would probably help. A big screw you to everyone who has one. YOU SUCK.)
10:15-10:30ish. See what my parents are up to. Hope my dad will take the Bubba for a while.
11:00-1:00. Bubba hangs out and has lunch with Grandma and Grandpa while I either clean the bathroom, pick up everyone else’s shit, vacuum, mop, put everyone else’s shit away, do laundry, or go grocery shopping. Many times this two hours is taken up by more than
one two of these chores.
1:00-3:00ish. Hopefully at this point the Bubba is napping. Start preparing dinner if necessary (I love my Crock Pot), finish up any chores, work on miscellaneous family admin stuff like bills, doctors appointments, etc. Pick up toys. Possibly shower, time permitting.
3:30-5:00pm. Play with Bubba. Try to multi-task: for example, sitting while he plays with Legos and I fold laundry. Fold laundry 9862 times because Bubba thinks it’s a big game to mess up what Mama has just done. Give up and just leave heaps of clean clothes in miscellaneous laundry baskets around the apartment.
5:00ish. Listen to Garry Meier on WGN as I cook dinner or attend to my already cooking dinner. Figure out what to make for Bubba to eat if we are having something he won’t like. Listen to a lot of whining about me not being able to play and repeatedly step on every matchbox car we have while trying to not burn the food.
6:00pm. Wait and hope that DH is on his way home from work. Feed Bubba.
6:30pm. Pick DH up from train if I have driven him there, or wait for his arrival.
7:00pm. Eat dinner in silence on two separate couches while the Bubba plays with trains and picks at his food here and there which sits on the table forever otherwise he will wither away to nothing. (I hear that some kids are actually capable of sitting at a table and eating their dinner. HAHAHA not at my house)
7:30pm. Watch some TV, maybe, hopefully, a (PG rated prime-time) show that is NOT child-centric. (How sad that I am now hoping for a chance to watch some gross ABC-family sitcom.) Bubba runs around like a maniac and I sporadically try to corral toys to their appropriate spots.
8:00pm. Bathtime. DH usually sits these out, so while Ben is in the tub I might text a friend or check Facebook. It’s all about multitasking!
8:30pm. Wind down. Brush teeth. Read stories. If DH does this I might have some time for a shower, reading, writing, looking at Facebook or in general just wasting time on the couch until I have to start the waiting-for-sleep-ritual.
9:00pm-12:00am. Put child to bed. Hope for sleep. Listen to the light switch on the lamp go on and off for a while. Listen to giggles and jumping on the bed. Intermittent spurts of crying ensue and randomly check to see if I can console him.
12:15am and beyond. Eventually fall asleep in nursery on floor. Wake up around 3AM to snoring from my own bedroom. Roll over and try to go back to sleep on my numb arms and hips… so I can do it all again tomorrow.
So if anyone out there is willing to gift me a mattress and an appliance, email me. We can work it out.