A little taste of this SAHM's day

In honor of Mother’s Day this Sunday I’m devoting the remainder of this week to posting lists. Mothers love lists. Well, at least I do. To-do lists. Lists of things never to repeat. Shopping lists. Lists of things to improve. Lists for the Husband to do. Lists of things that I forgot to put on the other lists. Lists of people who owe me money (ha!). Lists of the funny things my kids say. Lists of the funny things I say. Lists of things I’d like to do, but probably never will. Lists of things I’d buy if I were willing to part with the money. Oh my, the lists could go on and on. Today I’ll start with a list of the day’s highlights . . . by the hour.


6:00 AM—Dreaming about a carnival and cotton candy, and a baby crying. Wake up to the sounds of birds chirping and a real baby Bubba crying. The Husband brings teary-eyed boy to me, and I feed him. Nearly drop him as I stagger out of bed to put him back in his crib. Everyone sleeps some more.

7:00 AM—Snore. I'm asleep but I can still tell that my back is sore.

8:00 AM—Wakeup to Bosco by the bedside whispering, “Wake up. Wake up.” I groan. Everyone minus the Husband has been sick with colds. Congestion still lingers.

9:00 AM—Bubba babbles start coming from the nursery. Bosco waves bye-bye to daddy, but not before asking if he has the keys, and the other set of keys. Still not sure why he’s been asking this for the past week. Breakfast time! Cereal and fruit all around. Bosco refuses to finish his bananers.

10:00 AM—My nose is a faucet. So is Bubba’s. I look at the bathroom trash basket. This is what happens when 3 out of 4 household members have a cold. Remind myself to clean that up before any company comes over. That, or getting bigger basket.

11:00 AM—Notice Bosco’s nose has dried blood on it, and so does his blankie. He doesn’t care, but I do. A fight ensues to get that dried blood cleaned up off his face.

12:00 PM—Bubba’s asleep. Bosco wants a PB sandwich for lunch, or a guacamole pizza. I don't know how to make latter so I go for the sandwich. He doesn’t argue when I tell him to pick up his blocks first. He does argue though when I tell him to take off his baseball hat while eating.

1:00 PM—Bubba wakes up, but I’m in the middle of a bathroom break so . . . he’ll just have to cry. And Bosco will just have to wait on his requests for something more to eat until I finish my dang business. I notice a floor tile that has markings resembling Amelia Earhart. Now I’ll never NOT be able to notice that every time. Bosco freaks out while watching Sesame Street. Apparently Paul Rudd dressed up as a prince is deathly frightening. This is the second time that episode has gotten him all riled up. He makes me turn it off. I laugh, but secretly I wonder if Paul Rudd is the Spawn of Satan and only Bosco is privy to this information. Phone call to mudder.

2:00 PM—Bosco is asleep, and Bubba is dragging himself around the floor like a wounded toy soldier. I decide I should eat something delicious for lunch or . . . maybe just leftovers.

3:00 PM—Bubba AND Bosco are asleep. Me time! To the computer I go to research train party ideas. Summer vacation spots. Email. Google reader. Facebook. Blog blog. Bubba cries start coming from the baby monitor. Dang it. It hasn’t even been half and hour. Go put him back to sleep. My time is almost up.

4:00 PM—Decide I don’t want to cook what I had planned for dinner tonight. Far too tired. BLTs it is. But then my house will smell like bacon. And so will my hair. Change my mind. Will concoct something with ground beef instead. Get calls for the Husband who still refuses to get a cell phone. You know how I feel about phone calls this time of the day. Bosco rises from his slumber. Hugs, kisses, and a quiet tickle war. Bubba starts babbling. More hugs and kisses, and nose wipes. Bosco meltdown over some goggles I won’t let him wear. Practice alphabet instead. Then onto dump trucks. My body is used as a bridge. Get hit in the face with a toy hammer. Phone call from sista.

5:00 PM—My nose is starting to clear up. Realize I’m still in my jimmiejams. Change into more respectable clothing. Shower? Yeah right. Put on some make-up instead. Unload dishwasher. Start dinner. All whilst the boys play a rousing game of “Hey that’s mine!” in the living room. Bubba tries out the one shoulder look.

6:00 PM—The Husband saunters in from work. Bosco is thrilled to finally see another grown-up face. Eat dinner. Bosco only cries once, and eats most of his food. That’s pretty good. Bubba gags on some Cheerios. Family time. Bosco sings songs.

7:00 PM—Head out to go to the party store where I find practically no train themed party items, but I get creative with some whistles and bandanas. Bosco picks up everything he sees so we leave quickly. Go to a dollar store to see if I have better luck there. Not so much. We pass the Snowie establishment again. This time I succumb.

8:00 PM—Get the kiddies ready for bed. Bosco informs me that now he wants a big dump truck cake. Ugh. Not this time mister. Get all crafty and make some birthday invitations myself.

9:00 PM—Kiddies are in bed. Bubba starts wailing. Try the cry it out method and eventually he stops. Then he starts again and is in dire straits. The Husband cuddles him back to sleep. Start typing up this here bliggity blog. Finish my slushie.

10:00 PM—Missed rerun of The Office. Which reminds me Lost is almost over. What will I look forward to now?

11:00 PM—Mindless stuff. An uninterrupted potty break.

12:00 AM—I’s gots to get to sleep. Cleaning the window sills with a Q-tip can wait until tomorrow. Why did I bother putting on this makeup? Now I just have to wash it off. I won't make that mistake again tomorrow.