4:00 am You wake from crappy sleep to feed baby and sit silent on the sofa while staring at blackberry and viewing twitter updates.
5:55 You hear the screams from Blaise, "MOM. I WANT TOAST!" every day. Like flipping clockwork.
6:50 You prepare lunches for everyone. You hate yrself for not following the instructions of all the mom organized bloggers you read. You NEVER do anything the night before. Brew the coffee. Take the baby up to sleeping daddy
7:30 You start to work on Little Alouette while boys eat breakfast. No one has ANY SOCKS CLEAN. EVER. They look at you like you disappoint them in laundry. You do.
8:00 You take Finn to school while Blaise goes back upstairs to annoy the hell out of Joe. Joe searches for underwear and deodorant like groundhog day. You silence him mid shout nearly every day with "ON THE COUNTER TOP. IN THE LAUNDRY BASKET." Feed the baby.
8:20-10:ish You try and write and work without guilt- You ignore the all. My friends/family that you love call you and want to chat. You never can.
JOE LEAVES FOR THE WORKSHOP and you cry.
Feed baby. (2 precious days a week Blaise goes to preschool-he loves it but for you it is a source of annoyance & uncomfort as one of his teachers hates you- lol-fun times- whole other post someday)
10ish- 11am Light saber duels with Blaise while talking on phone (doing bizzz as Blaise calls it) while rocking baby in cradle. You rock back and forth at your desk even when the baby is asleep and untethered from you. Like a lunatic you rock. You play Lego and think about how early is truly too early to drink a glass of wine.
11:00-12:00 Free play time (really code speak for ignoring Blaise while you work some more packaging toys and getting items ready for post office) You play music loudly and it sort of makes up for it all. You grimace. You dance with them in dirty socks and messy ponytails.
12:00 LUNCH and feed baby. Work on invoices and other such bizzz things.
1:00- 3ish Blur of motherly duties while taking emails, phone calls, and moving money around from one account to another. Tiny amounts of money but it matters. It sucks and you wish you would have NEVER been an English major. You speak daily to yr children of lofty career goals for their futures. You know this is highly contradictory of what you really believe but being poor sucks. Real bad.
3pm Finn is home from school- brought to you by one of yr two darling neighbors. They tag team bringing him home with their kiddos because early on they sensed you were about to stick yr head in the oven from the stress of the day. They rock. You talk at them in high volume and speed, pleading them not to go from yr stoop because they are adults and they are smiling and pretty.
3-4pm It's mofo MOVIE TIME. yay. I have come around a bit. YES THE CHILDREN NEED an hour of TV. We all do dammit. You descend upon Internet like a banshee with Scout strapped to yr body in a sling. You try and stay current on trends, customers, emails, competition, social media etc. because you know... it's hard out there for in the digital marketplace. Truly. One day they might not love you anymore. You worry. You fret.
4-5pm Homework. You stop everything for interaction that is real and needed with the boys. One hour without the noise. Only sometimes you are so tired that you are cranky. And then you feel bad. And then you cry. You have impromptu cookie baking or play dough making session to temper the guilt. The kitchen is destroyed.
5pm-7ish. Post office. Errands. All the children running amok round the city. Daily. And then dinner. Unless you can convince the babysitter to come for a while. You text her with pleading texts like this
Tata! Please come over after school? PLEASE I LOVE YOU. I need you! PLEASE? xo u r the best.
She is 15 years old and super cool. You are sure she shows these texts to her BFF's and they laugh at you. You would have laughed at you back then. You are old and not cool. You have too many children. You are still wearing flip flops in November.
7:00-8ish The witching hour at yr house. bath bed book book water book book water cry.
Feed the baby. Frantic texts to Joe. He will be home soon. You have not had a shower. You have on the same pants as yesterday and you slept in them the day before. Shit. You have to go to TARGET!
9pm. Joe unwinds. You wind up for more work. There are always more things to do. When you work for yourself and you are responsible for bringing in each cent you never stop. It's like a disease.You pay the bills. The insurance that costs so much that you actually do for once LOL. The other bills. They are like a plague. You move the money around again. You put items in yr basket at saks.com just for fun and pull them right out like risky teenage sex. You feed the baby. You eat snacks. You chug a beer. You kiss Joe. You tell each other everything is going to be alright. You say things like, "one day we will look back blah blah blah."
11pm You have to write. It's what you love and you have to make time for it or you are not a writer. You have to read and burn bloody eyeballs. You have to do this because this is important you say. You fall asleep with phones and pens and pacifiers all around you. You pray tomorrow is a better day.
You drool into the crease of yr neck.
But in the middle of the night when you are awake... you look at them all asleep.
Even the newest one. So tiny and plump with possibility.
You look at them and some semblance of calm washes over you.
You take it and wallow in it if only for a moment.
It's enough though. It's enough love and faith to make you get up again.
It always is. And you cross yr fingers it always stays so sweet.
It always stay so goddamn sweet.