Today, I got up at 7.45. Of course, I had already been up for considerable periods at 1.30, 2.20, 4.45 and 6.00 but at 7.45, I got up. I fed the boys and dressed them. I had breakfast with the Princess on my lap. I made ham sandwiches. I packed the boys into their car seats and bundled them into the car leaving herself and her father waving us off (they were going to her course in a separate convoy – Easter holidays from school you will recall). I dropped the boys off at the crèche and arrived into work (at 9.20 which is pretty good going, I can tell you), where, after some meeting and greeting, I worked. It turns out that being in the office is more tiring than I recall. At lunch time I went to the crèche and picked up the boys, brought them home, fed them, expressed a couple of bottles, fed me, put them into the arms of their afternoon minder, turned around, came back to the office and worked for the afternoon. At the end of the day I drove home, to be met by two mildly unhappy boys, one hard working minder and one very reproachful girl – “I wanted you to collect me from my course but you were at work”. Cooked dinner while spouse minded children. Fed everyone, bathed the junior members of the family and persuaded them to retire to bed. Collapsed on the couch. Heard distant wailing. Not distant enough. As I type, Mr. Waffle is off ministering to the “Princess of Wails, Queen of Hearts” (his description) who appears to have dropped doggy out of her bed and needs expert assistance for his retrieval. Is it really only Monday?
I’m exhausted from just reading that. Mothers amaze me.
I need a rest now; you truly amaze me waffle.
Brother Lawrence says
You deserve a vacation. How much time have you accrued so far?
Waffly, you need to remember that ‘work’ time should be spent 1. gathering around the water cooler, 2. online shopping and 3. only doing work when your superior is in sight. I know you’ll readjust.
Congrats on the boys’ successful transition to creche, tho.
And still you find time to post on your blog.
Are you on those little pills that have a smiley on one side? It could explain why the boys won’t sleep at night. 😉
I’m impressed: your website has turned my semicolon, hypen and parenthesis at the end of my comment into a real smiley. This is serious stuff!
Can’t work all the time. 🙁
Thank you for your sympathy and admiration, they are as oxygen to my starved cabbage like brain. My employer thanks you also. And, gosh, Peggy, that smiley yoke is nifty, isn’t it?
I’ll finally stop hovering at the sidelines of your blog to say: I felt exhausted reading this post – I can’t even think about how many times you were up in the night – and I think what caps it all is that you still EXPRESSED MILK. How? My boobs used to shut up shop for the night at 5pm after an exerting afternoon of, say, walking in the park. I think you deserve some kind of Real Woman award (you know, like Real Ale). I was going to say that you should put your feet up at the office but your employer is clearly reading your blog.