Bad Day

12:30 am-- Jaws awakes and proceeded to fuss and cry for a solid 45 minutes before she settles down again. She's a year old (last week), and she still nurses around 3 times a night. We're trying to eliminate one of the feedings. When I say "we," I essentially mean, "I" because let's face it-- I'm doing all the work. A mom awakes and stays awake until the baby is done fussing; she can't help it. A father might wake up for a moment and then rustle around in bed just enough to encourage said infant that someone *might* be getting up to attend to her, thereby lenghtening the cry-out period by fifteen minutes, before falling promptly back to sleep.


7:30. Skywalker, love of my life, comes to kiss me goodbye and tells me that there's no need to pack him a lunch, he's got plenty. And he's left something for me on the stove for breakfast.

7:35 I engage in a little morning scripture study.

7:45 I scoop up Jaws and signal to Loli, we all shuffle downstairs, ready to dish out oatmeal. We find, to our mutual pleasant surprise, 2 1/2 pieces of pumpkin pie. Loli, Jaws and I thoroughly enjoy it (loli to the tune of orange smears all over her cute little pink-pantsed butt). I enjoy mine while reading the Giver-- the current selection of my RS bookclub. I've read it before and so I think it won't be all that riveting, but I should know better. Me and books. Books and me.

8:10 I fill the bathtub for loli and nurse Jaws for an additional 20 minutes while I read the next two chapters.

8:30 I direct loli to clothe herself and I fill the bathtub a little fuller, bringing Jaws in the room with me to romp so that I can watch her while I bathe. I finish a further two chapters, and try to distract Jaws from the toilet plunger, and try to wash my hair at the same time.

9:00 I assume my robe. Jaws wants to nurse a little more; I let her, and finish another chapter.

9:20 Loli comes downstairs and announces that she's ready to do school. I head upstairs, remove the towel from my head and put on my new shorts and an orange T-shirt-- my favorite color, to try to offset the grumpiness of sleep deprivation. As I walk down the stairs, I realize that the new shorts need a belt. I look in the closet upstairs, the closet downstairs, on top of the washer and dryer, and I can't find it. I know that I have three somewhere.

9:35 Loli and I settle onto the couch and review the days of the week, and the months of the year. We count to a hundred in ones, fives and tens. We count money and tell time. We review some addition flashcards and I give her a short spelling test. She gets all of them right because I let her use her phonics flashcards this time. We sit down and read a chapter of Dealing with Dragons. I have her draw a picture and write something under it; as usual, she finishes her picture but is mulish about writing something. It takes twenty minutes of "write anything you want! I don't care what you write, just write something. OK, sit there, then," to convince her that she ought to do this.

10:30 Jaws is eating paper. I dislodge a wet white glob and plop her into her baby seat at the table. I spread honey on a piece of wheat bread and cut it into meticulous little squares. I notice that both of her sippy cups are dirty-- I put them in the sink and fill her bottle with orange juice, and plunk into the table in front of her.

10:45 I start on the dishes with NPR in the background, pondering the troubling phenomenon of Loli's lack of enthusiasm for risks-- she absolutely hates being "wrong." And so she wants me to tell her what to do all the time. Will she ever grow out of it? I realize that I'm making a bigger issue of it than it really is, mentally, and try to focus on Cokie Roberts and the latest poll statistics.

10:50 Jaws wants down. She's acting like she wants to nurse; after two minutes she falls asleep. I slide her carefully into her little bouncer which I still use as a temporary bed, and keep in Skywalker's office. I go back to the dishes.

11:00 The phone rings. I hurdle the toddler gate, run into the office and grab it with my soggy raisin fingers. I'm surprised to hear the voice of my sister. I look up at the clock and decide that I need to do the dishes and talk at the same time, much as I'd like to sit down and relax and talk instead. We have a long conversation about her life and my life and the PBS special on the Mormons and Joseph Smith and Polygamy. She tells me some details about the experiences that her husband has dealt with in teaching high school orchestra, the parent lameness and trying to fill the shoes of a much beloved retired teacher. She suddenly has to go because her baby is crying, which is probably good because I'm starting to get a little bit angry about what I'm hearing, and that's never a good sign. Little sister doesn't need a sister bear. She doesn't like sister bear, either. Sister bear has never been a welcome intruder into her life.

11:30 Loli announces that she's done. I look at her paper and praise her extravagantly, and put on Polyanna (her choice). I finish the dishes, toss in a load of laundry, and hit the couch.

11:50 I finish off the giver, decide that it's as thoroughly depressing as I remember it being, and begin folding laundry. I hear Jaws making waking-up noises in the next room; I lift her out of her little seat and let her run wild. She begins wreaking havoc on my laundry pile so I construct an artificial barrier made of the box our bike trailer came in and a laundry basket. She is angry for a moment and fusses, but then turns to the TV, fascinated by Polyanna. She plays happily for a few minutes. I listen to my cherished Monday-Morning podcast-- Wait Wait, don't tell me, the NPR news quiz, as I finish folding and piling. I grab two piles and run up the stairs with them.

12:30 I hear Loli's program end, I ask her to take her laundry up and put it away. She tells me she's too tired, I tell her she can't have a treat when we go grocery shopping if she doesn't help out. She asks me what kind of treat, this ticks me off a little so I don't say anything. She silently picks up her piles and races up the stairs behind me.

12:45 I grab a bunch of hangers and begin putting articles of clothing on them. The phone rings again. I answer breathlessly; it's Aunt Katherine wanting to catch up. She tells she has some clothes for Jaws if I want them, I survey the huge mounds in the middle of the floor doubtfully. I sigh when I realize that Jaws will still be growing for the next year. I thank her, and we chat while I try to find the rest of my hangers. Loli has them, I hold out my hand, she whips them away. I grit my teeth and try to grab them, she teases me, keeping them out of reach. Finally I wrest them from her, she is upset at my brusqueness and is trying to talk to me while I'm trying to hang things up and talk to Aunt Katherine in as normal a manner as possible.

1:00 Finally Aunt Katherine has to go. I finish up the Laundry. I kiss Jaws and smile at Loli to make sure that they know that their mother loves them, and then flip open my laptop to my meal calendar. I amass a list a shopping list, print it out. I tell Loli to put on pants. I switch the clothes to the dryer. I tell loli to put on a different shirt; that one is stained. I start a new wash. I tell loli to take off the dirty shirt that she has on underneath the clean shirt that she has put on, and help her do so. I put shoes on Jaws.

1:25 I look in vain for my purse. Finally I think to peer through the windows of our locked car, parked there in the driveway and spattered with white splotches-- it's there. In the passenger seat. I lower myself to the ground and look under the car for the hide-a-key. Where did Skywalker say he put it?

1:30 I run in the house and phone him on his cell. He guides me to it. I open the car door and take out my purse, then hide the key again. I realize that my keys are not attached to the purse as usual, I think and then realize that Jaws was playing with them in Sacrament meeting yesterday, so that's probably where they are. Except probably not, because probably some well-meaning person picked them up and put them somewhere "safe". If I can't get them back, it will be the third set of keys I've lost this year.

1:40 I scoot back under the car, grab the hide-a-key, grab the housekey from its hiding place, hike up my shorts, settle Jaws into her carseat (she immediately begins making frustrated noises and pushing up against the straps) buckle the seatbelt around Loli's booster seat, and sigh with relief as I settle into the driver's seat.

1:50 I make a beeline for Carl's Jr, buy something distinctly non-vegetarian for myself (family is veg, and I'm supposed to be, too, but on a bad day I have my lapses) and a chocolate milkshake for loli to share with jaws. Loli takes delight in feeding jaws with the little straw-spoon.

2:45 We buy our groceries.

3:00 I pull out the key-lime yogurt that I bought, and dig through the glove compartment, looking for the spoons I know we keep there. I find five knives and a straw. It kind of reminds me of a certain Alanis Morisette song. As I trade my straw with Loli for her tiny spoon straw and pull back the foil, I'm also re-experiencing traumatic memories of jr high boys sucking up jello through straws and making disgusting noises.

3:25 We arrive home. I get the girls settled with little snacks and start to write this post.

4:00 I put some artichokes in the steamer.

4:30 Halfway through making the FHE treat, I realize that I didn't buy cream cheese, and so I phone Skywalker to get some on the way home.

4:35 I plop down in the chair that is mine whilst Skywalker is away, and browse through email messages.

4:45 A knock sounds on the door. It's a girl who I think I saw as I drove down the street toward my house. She's trying to sell me an all-purpose cleanser. I ought to tell her to leave, but she keeps giving me high fives and demonstrating all the wonders of her product with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. And she's black and so I feel akward being mean to her. I wonder to myself if I'm being prejudiced (the answer: yes. But give me a break-- there are hardly any African Americans where I live, and my feelings are tender because we're in the process of adopting Ethiopian children.)

4:55 Finally I tell her that I can't afford to spend thirty-five dollars on a bottle of cleanser, no matter how concentrated, and after the usual protestations she smiles and says thank you and leaves. I go back to my couch and my post.

5:25 Skywalker comes home bearing cream cheese. I finish the FHE treat and settle down with my family to eat artichokes and tofu sandwiches. Skywalker tells me that he feels like he was run ragged today at work. I wonder to myself if biking is a wise FHE activity, then decide we could use the recreation as a release. (Read, I could use it as a release.)

5:30 I nearly burn the lemon bars, but they come out unsinged.

7:30 Skywalker and I have spent about an hour over dinner, and about an hour getting everything all tricked out for our FHE bike ride. returning a package of moldy pita pockets I bought today.

8:30 Biking is really fun and invigorating, just what I needed. Skywalker is enjoying himself, too. Jaws and Loli whoop and holler as I go down scary hairpin turns at 15 MPH, still getting the hang of this trailer thing. I gash my thigh on the killer pedal spikes. We stop by the grocery store and return a package of moldy pita pockets I bought today.

9:00 We arrive at a park and let the girls play, Skywalker rides back to bring the car to us.

9:20 We arrive home. I nurse Jaws and pajama her and fold her in a blanket in her crib.

9:30 Loli trots up after brushing her teeth and proceeds to get Jaws all riled up, I chastise her (gently) and she complains, I can hear her asking "why mom? Why?" All the way back down the stairs.

9:35 I dole out lemon bars (Loli didn't finish dinner, so she gets hers Tommorrow) and settle down for some side-by-side laptop time with spouse.


The end. (hopefully).