Can someone please explain to me how some people (Moms and Dads alike) get it all done in a day? I am constantly feeling like I need to delete something in order to add the things that aren’t getting done. I diligently write schedules for myself in an attempt to get everything done in the 24 hour period I’m given every day. My sample schedule on my days off look like this:
5:45am- Wake up.
6:00- Arrive at the gym for 45 minute cardio session.
7:00am- Arrive home. Perfect Child (from here on out referred to as PC) should be waking or husband has already gotten him up.
7:30- Eat breakfast together while feeding PC.
8:00- Hubby, myself and PC enjoy 30 minutes together while walking the dogs.
8:30am- Hubby leaves for work. We change clothes, lounge around and play.
9:30am- Get on the roads to start errands, go on playdate, or any number of other activities.
12:00pm- Home to prepare lunch.
12:30pm- Eat lunch.
1:00pm- Lunch clean up and playtime.
1:30pm- Nap time. This is when I will get some of my work done, clean, read or take a nap.
4:30pm- PC wakes from nap.
4:45pm- After nap snack for PC
5:00pm- Outside play, read books, possible watch some cartoons (play it by ear)
6:00pm- Hubby arrives at home and I start preparing dinner.
6:30pm- Eat dinner.
7:00pm- Hubby, myself and PC walk dogs.
7:30pm- Bedtime for PC and a cocktail for this Mama.
That entire day seems not only reasonable, but not so structured that I’m doomed for failure. I have plenty of downtime with not much planned and yet, enough structure to keep us moving in the right direction.
However, this is what actually happens:
5:45am- Turn off alarm because PC was up all night and even though hubby took turns with me getting up, I still woke up every time PC screamed and am therefore too exhausted to get up yet.
6:45am- Wake up to the sounds of PC screaming, “Maaaaaaaa!!!!” (Yes, my child refuses to call me Mama and instead screams at me like a frat boy from Jersey).
7:00am- Realize that PC has been replaced by Demon Child (from here on out referred to as DC).
7:30am- Sit down to breakfast only to discover DC decided today he hates eggs. Peel an orange instead. DC has decided he also hates oranges (the day AFTER I purchase 10 pounds of oranges at CostCo because DC couldn’t get enough of them yesterday).
8:00am- Finally finish breakfast (thank goodness there were waffles in the freezer). Get out for a family dog walk. (Yay! Back on schedule!)
8:30am- Hubby leaves for work. I decide that since I didn’t work out this morning, I’ll head to the gym now.
9:15am- Ready to leave for the gym 45 minutes later than I intended because DC wouldn’t let me out of his sight long enough to change, use the bathroom and brush my teeth.
9:30am- Finally leave for the gym once DC ends his 15 minute tantrum because I put the wrong shoes on him.
9:45am- Check him into Kids Care at the gym and start cardio workout.
10:00am- Kids Care staff member interrupts me on the treadmill to let me know that DC has been crying for 15 minutes and I need to come get him.
10:05am- Leave the gym after burning 29 calories.
10:15am- Arrive at the park so DC can run around and burn some energy. Being a first time mom, DC sees the large puddle long before I do and promptly sits himself directly in the middle of it. He’s already wet and dirty, so I let him play.
10:30am- Head home to give DC a bath and change clothes.
11:30am- Finally get DC back in clothes after fighting me to take a bath, fighting me to stay in the bath, fighting me to get a diaper on and fighting me to wear clothes. When I say he’s in clothes, that’s a lie. He’s wearing a diaper and shoes. (He whined and pointed at the shoes until I put them on.)
You can imagine what the rest of the day looked like. Schedule schmedule. Today didn’t happen.
I’m fully aware there are women in the world who can do it all (I’m looking at you Beyonce), but I am not one of them. Even with one of the most helpful and supportive husband’s in the world, I still just don’t have the time. I would love to workout 3 days a week, but I’m not willing to sacrifice my sleep (aka my sanity) to do so. I could squeeze in a workout at the end of the day, but once my child is in bed, I still have to do laundry, clean my house and prepare for the next day. And if I’m not doing one of those 3 things, then I am sitting on the couch wondering how I survived while looking at my pile of laundry and toy-filled living room. And that’s OK.
Someday I will workout. Someday I will read again. Someday I will make Beyonce jealous. Today is not that day. Tomorrow doesn’t look great either.