A Typical Day

7:30 am--I decide to get up--Matt is already up with Son #1. I hear Son #2 stirring. He had a bad night last night and has slept late--not a good sign on a day when I need to get him down for an early nap.

7:32am--Come downstairs holding Son #2. Son #1 immediately asks me to "make some ghosts." I pour some coffee and make some ghosts out of kleenex and cotton balls. I am finishing the faces when Son #1 says "I need a robot." I ask "what about the ghosts?" Son #1 clarifies "I need ghosts AND a robot." Matt offers up several robots from the toy bin. "No, I need to make a robot from a craft." Translate: I want mommy to build a robot.

8am--Oatmeal is on the stove, but Son #2 can't possibly wait and has caught sight of eggs in the refridgerator. Wild shrieking ensues. I scramble an egg while trying to envision a fast, easy, homemade robot.

8:05am--Son #2 settles into his egg. I find a toy metal spatula which I transform into a robot using pipe cleaners and brads. It's not pretty. I'm not crafty mom. But Son #1 is satisfied.

8:15am--I go upstairs to get dressed and get clothes for the kids, shouting "Stir the oatmeal!!" to Matt about a hundred times. Has anyone fed the dog?

8:20am--The Great Battle to Get Dressed begins with much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

8:30am--a lull in the battle. Half dressed children eat oatmeal. Matt goes to shower.

8:45am--with a combination of screaming, pleading and outright bribery, a truce is negotiated in the Battle to Get Dressed. Son #1 will wear hat and mittens, but no coat. Matt takes kids for walk with dog.

9am--Matt goes to work. Jennie calls. She's running late (yay!! me too!!).

9:15am--The Battle of the Car begins.

9:25am--we finally leave, stopping at the bank and drive 15 minutes to Lynd's to pick apples with the Jennies. On the way, Son #1 says we should get "a hundred dollars apples." I tell him $16 for 20 lbs is more than enough. He then spends the next ten minutes talking about the Jennies: He likes mommy Jennie. He likes little Jennie. Little Jennie is a very nice girl. Both Jennies are girls. Why are Jennies girls? Mommy, tell me a story about the Jennies.

9:50am--arrive at Lynd's for a short apple-picking playdate with the Jennies. Son #1 still refuses coat and so will only pick apples in sun. Son #2 keeps tripping on apples on ground. Son #1 eats several bites from and then discards about a dozen apples.

10:20am--Twenty pounds of apples in a plastic bag is REALLY heavy. There's more traffic than you'd expect in an apple orchard. Paying for twenty pounds of apples in traffic with a toddler and two preschoolers is challenging--even with two adults! Time to peruse the tent filled with produce and goodies--perhaps "peruse" is not the right word. How about "watch in horror as the three children tear around the place like it's a racetrack?" That's about right. Hey, nothing got broken.

10:40am--Say goodbye to the Jennies. Drive home. Wonder if Michael has done enough to be able to take an early nap. Son #1 asks me to make apple crisp when we get home. Stupidly, I reply "Sure, I think we have time for that." We do not have time for that. We listen to "C is for Cookie" about five thousand times on the way home.

11am--arrive at home. Feed Son #2 fast lunch (read: non-nutritious, fake Italian chef, something-a-roni). Start peeling apples. Realize I haven't showered. Regret agreeing to make apple crisp. Son #1 asks if apple crisp is ready yet.

11:20am--Take Son #2 upstairs with bottle for nap. Son #1 asks if apple crisp is ready yet. Come back down and chop apples. Why am I making apple crisp?

11:35am--Realize Son #2 is still awake. Suspect poop. Yep. Change diaper--hmm, not enough here. Suspect there will be a second event later in the day. Nap, take 2. Son #1 asks if apple crisp is ready yet.

11:45am--Son #1 asks if apple crisp is ready yet. Make crumb topping for apple crisp. Why am I making apple crisp?

noon--Put apple crisp in oven. Son #1 asks if apple crisp is ready yet. Make chicken nuggets for Son #1 (hey, they're from Trader Joes, so they must be ok, right?). Turn on Sesame Street. I pretend not to hear that Son #2 is still awake. I go to shower.

12:01pm--Son #1 opens bathroom door and starts bringing me "surprises" while I shower. He drops trucks and animals into the bathtub. He lets in cold air. Have you ever tried to shave your legs with goosebumps? Loads of fun.

12:15pm--Get dressed in work clothes. Say prayer to St. Jude that there won't be any major messes for the next hour. Son #1 asks if apple crisp is ready yet. I hear maniacal laughter coming from the nursery. Son #2 is not asleep. I calculate the nap ratio and figure if he falls asleep in the next fifteen minutes, it's still worth it.

12:30pm--I come downstairs. Son #1 asks "Mommy are you 39?" Sigh. I wish he had asked about apple crisp.

12:45pm--The laughter has become screaming upstairs. I calculate the nap ratio--no longer worth it. I go into the nursery. Son #2 has taken off his pants and socks. I am hit by a smell that tells me all of the apples have taken effect. Change another diaper. Son #1 comes upstairs to ask if the apple crisp is ready yet.

12:50pm--Bring Son #2 downstairs. Remove apple crisp from oven. Why did I make apple crisp? Scarf bagel. Dash to computer to print notes for class. What am I teaching today? I can't staple my notes because I took the staples out of the stapler so that Son #1 could play with it, now I can't remember where I put them. Son #1 comes downstairs to ask if the apple crisp is ready yet. YES!!!! THE FREAKING APPLE CRISP IS READY!!! The Battle of the Potty begins--but the promise of apple crisp ensures that it is only a minor revolt.

1pm--Children eat apple crisp and watch Caillou. I hate Caillou. I go upstairs to pull myself together--hair up, makeup on, slippers off, boots on.

1:15pm--I'm feeling remarkably ready to go--then I remember an ungraded paper. CRAP! I track down the paper, let out the dog, grade the paper while standing at the back door waiting for the dog. CLONK--the sound of the napless Son #2's head striking the corner of the table. DOUBLE CRAP! Now I have to hold the toddler and finish the paper.

1:25pm--The Second Battle of the Car begins.

1:35pm--We leave for ODU. Son #1 has noticed the shiny pin on my lapel. He wants to know why he doesn't have one. He wants a story about a shiny pin. My patience is gone and my sanity is slipping.

1:50pm--Arrive ODU. Matt meets me in parking lot. I get out of car. He gets into car. I tell him Son #2 is napless and wish him luck! I can't remember what else we said.

1:53pm--Crossing the street, I try to figure out if I have time to go the office. 7 minutes. Nope. I settle for the mailroom. I staple my notes. I stand at the table there and try to remember everything I know about the Albigensian Crusade. It's hard to think about the Albigensian Crusade when you're still humming a song about sidewalk chalk.

2pm--Go to my classroom. It is sparsely populated. Too sparsely populated. Grrrr. Half my class is not there. I berate those who are there. They ask me to cancel class. I vacillate. I compromise. They will endure an hour on the Albigensian Crusade, then I will let them go early. I promise to include LOTS about the Albigensian Crusade on the next quiz.

3pm-- I let them go. I walk to the office. I sneak past open doors. I shut the door behind me. I unzip my boots. Matt doesn't expect me home until 5pm. I check email. I check the Moms' Board. I blog.

4:30pm--Time to go home. There will be the usual evening chaos waiting for me. But I think I miss my boys!