wake up when you hear your husband’s alarm.
fall back asleep.
hear baby, nurse him. fall back asleep.
wake up at 6:30 when your husband’s alarm again.
fall back asleep.
wake up at 6:45 when you hear his alarm yet again. hear your son in his crib saying “mooooom! mom! mom! moooom!”
take a now sleeping baby and move him, get out of bed.
take your other son potty.
get kid out of the crib, bring him in by your husband, and throw him two diapers.
your daughter is up.
get dressed, brush birds’ nest out of hair (somewhat), and clean old makeup off of your face.
start the car, put on a movie, ask husband to put the baby in his carseat.
drive to get milk. drive home. shake fist at construction and traffic.
beep the horn to let husband know you’re home, give him a kiss, watch as he drives off and beeps twice to say goodbye to the kids (he does this every day, the neighbors probably hate us.)
head inside, set down carseat with sleeping baby, start making breakfast.
fill up two cups of milk.
toddler asks if she can help, ask her to get the eggs, ham, and cheese out.
fill up a refill of one of those cups of milk.
hear complaining because you made eggs without her.
have one kid start dancing because he has to go potty.
tell him to go.
he says no, he’s scared.
take him potty. you both wash your hands.
clean off kitchen table, plate up eggs, set them on the table. tell everyone that breakfast is ready.
pour a cup of coffee. eat some eggs out of the pan. tell yourself you can drink the coffee when you finish a glass of water.
drink water, take vitamins.
realize you haven’t posted to Instagram yet today.
snap a picture. edit it. try to be witty. post it.
baby starts crying.
go in the family room and turn off the movie, which elicits complaints.
tell everyone, again, that breakfast is ready.
change kid’s diaper, buckle him into his seat, put on his bib.
explain that the Thomas trains have to wait on the table while he eats.
get two cups of lemonade for two toddlers.
have one kid cry because you made it wrong.
tell him you’re not dumping it because you already made it, you’ll make it the other way next time.
you take a sip of coffee.
baby starts crying again.
you take a huge bite of eggs.
scoop him up, change his diaper.
remember you left the wipes in the dining room.
close diaper back up, get wipes.
crying gets louder.
finish changing diaper, throw it away, and wash hands.
grab cup of coffee, put it on coffee table.
grab baby and start nursing.
take a deep breath and a drink of cold coffee.
tell yourself, this is going to be a good day.
It’s easy to get caught up in the rush of things without taking a deep breath. I look back on my day and wonder what I have done and feel like I haven’t done much at all. But when I stop to think of the little things I’ve done, it adds up to a whole lot. If you’re a new mom or postpartum at all, this post is a great read. If you’re having a bad day and want to change that, here are 31 Ways to Have a Better Day. Want to wallow in your bad day and just have a bad day? Here’s HOW to have a bad day (the right way).
Big hugs, my friends. We can do this.
Thanks to my friend, Megan for inspiring this post.