6:27AM: (three minutes before the alarm is set to go off) Brooks wakes up.
6:28AM: I scoot off to the shower before Brooks sees me. If he sees me it will break my heart to leave right away to get in the shower. I lock the door to keep the boys out (this includes my husband).
6:35AM: I realize we're out of shampoo. Crap. I could yell for Brandon, but I locked him out. Hmmmm... I consider just skipping the wash, but my hair is already so greasy that I can just feel my forehead breaking out, so I think... I do the only rational thing.
6:37AM: I make a naked & very wet dash across the cold bathroom to unlock the door. I run back to the warm shower and scream for Brandon to bring me some shampoo from the guest bathroom.
6:50AM: I get out of the shower and step around the three boys in the bathroom to get to my towel and head for the bedroom to dry off.
7:00AM: I throw my still-damp work pants (the intentions were to hang them to dry) in the dryer and go to dry my hair.
7:10AM: Will screams from the dark living room that he would like some milk "pweaaasseee." I head to the living room and step on a plastic onion ring in the hallway.
7:11AM: I pour two cups of milk, open two cereal bars and turn on the
7:30AM: I'm excited because I am taking Brooks to the pediatrician today for his 18-month appointment, which means I can actually eat breakfast with my kids before leaving the house.
7:40AM: I realize that the girl who cleans my house is coming today, and she'll be here at 8. There goes breakfast with the kids.
7:45AM: I take my now-wrinkled pants out of the dryer and finish getting dressed (only a mother of two young children can forget that her pants are in the dryer when she's been walking around in her underwear and dress shirt for 45 minutes).
7:50AM: I try to convince Will to come to his room so that I can get him dressed. Brandon has so sweetly laid out his clothes, which are a size 3 navy pair of pants and a gray and green size 24 months John Deere T-Shirt (he is constantly getting the boys' clothes mixed up). Siiggghhhh. I put the clothes back and pick something else.
7:53AM: I give up on dressing Will and lay his clothes beside the door. He can get dressed at his grandparent's. I try to pick my battles - and this isn't one of them.
7:57AM: I grab a kicking and screaming Brooks and take him to get dressed. He's not so lucky and has to be dressed properly to go to the doctor. (HOWEVER - I fully reserve the right to let my kids go to the doctor in their pjs when they're actually sick. If I'm ALSO wearing pjs when they go for those sick visits, please overlook me and my disheveled look and the vomit in my hair. And for God's sake - someone bring me a coffee.)
8:05AM: I run to the bedroom to put on my jewelry and grab my phone. I look for Will, only to find him playing very nicely in his room. I tell him it's time to go.
8:06AM: Will tells me "NO!" I tell him it's not an option and that we have to leave before the cleaning lady gets there. I cheerfully remind him that he's going to see his poppa on the farm while I take Brooks to the doctor. Will replies that Poppa "Doesn't have enough toys!" He holds onto the toy airport for dear life.
8:10AM: I place Will (who is still dressed in pjs and holding onto his toy airport) in the car.
8:11AM: I put Brooks in the car. Will says "HAHA - You're going to get shots!!" Brooks just nods. I realize that in a few years, this type of banter will probably start World War III or at the very least, a good solid fist-fight, but for now I let it go.
8:13AM: I run back inside to grab Will's clothes, my phone and a diaper bag. I stop in the kitchen to write a check for the cleaning lady. I leave her a note asking her to clean out the microwave (since my mother so nicely told me yesterday that my microwave was disgusting).
8:17AM: I back out of the driveway and thank the Lord that she must also be running late. Will starts fussing about an airplane that we left at home. I turn the radio up :)
8:25AM: I decide that since I will be forfeiting my two cups of office-style coffee because I'm going to the pedi's office, I'm allowed to drive thru McDonalds and get an iced vanilla coffee.
8:30AM: I pull into Mickey D's and order two hashbrowns and an iced vanilla latte.
8:35AM: I pull out of McDonald's and take a sip of my incredibly over-priced coffee. Yuck. It's not vanilla. Because going inside the restaurant with two half-dressed toddlers is not an option, I continue to the grandparent's.
9:00AM: We arrive at my in-law's and my mother-in-law graciously offers to make us breakfast. I accept her offer and resist the temptation to take a short nap on her sofa.
9:45AM: Brooks and I leave for the doctor's office. He falls asleep shortly after we pull out of the driveway and I turn up the radio :)
10:20AM: We pull into the parking lot at the doctor's office and I growl. I find it hard to believe that this many people are in this one building. I circle the lot three times and succumb to the overflow lot. If I squint, I can read the sign on the three-story building from my parking spot.
10:30AM: I check in at the doctor's office ON TIME!! I resist the urge to high-five myself in public.
10:32AM: We're called back. Seriously. It's never been that fast. They must have also noticed that I was on time for the first time in three years and offered me a reward.
10:40AM: Brooks get weighed, measured and given the once-over by a ditzy nurse I've never seen before.
10:50AM: The pediatrician walks in while I'm doing the hokey pokey and shaking it all about!
11:00AM: The doctor leaves and tells us to wait for the nurse to return with his booster shot. In walks the ditzy nurse with a 6 inch Q-tip. She squats down in front of Brooks and starts to swab his throat. I ask her what she's doing and she tells me she's testing him for strep.
11:05AM: I'm still arguing with the twirpy nurse who's insisting that the doctor told her to give him a strep test. I ask her to go get the doctor. She leaves and never comes back.
11:10AM: Another nurse (who I've seen before) comes in with his shot and apologizes for the nurse who got her rooms confused. I love being right.
11:30AM: Brooks and I are on our way back home. He's pouting over his sore leg, but proud of his stickers.
11:50AM: I meet my father-in-law to exchange the baby before I head to work. I kiss Brooks good-bye. I see him getting strapped into the car seat, but watching me as I drive away. My heart breaks a little.
12:00PM: I arrive at work, put my things away and log onto my computer.
12:15PM: Rather than respond to my emails, I decide to eat my lunch in the conference room. I notice one of our "usuals" has come into the bank. I pick up the pace to the conference room to avoid having to make conversation.
12:30PM: I'm finishing up my lunch when I notice that the "usual" customer is still my boss' office. This person (without giving any specifics) isn't doing so well. This person is elderly and let's just say it's been a while since the elevator has reached the top for this person. It is very clear that this person needs help.
12:40PM: My boss decides that it's time to call the police to get this person some assistance. She calls 911 and I hear her explain that this person IS NOT VIOLENT.
12:45PM: All six Adairsville police officers bust into the bank GUNS A' BLAZIN'. It's like a freaking SWAT Team exercise, except it's real. I don't know whether to go rush to our completely frightened customer, or hide under my desk. The 40 caliber pistol the officer is holding helps me decide to sit tight.
12:48PM: We convince the officers that the person of interest is NOT violent and they escort the offender (who didn't really offend anyone) outside for further questioning.
12:58PM: I'm still peaking out the windows of the bank when the chief of police walks into the office to get some information from me. I try my best to convey how sweet and pitiful this customer is. He agrees and says they will transport them in an ambulance for a physical and blood sugar testing. I ask him to make sure he got a hot meal and he promised he would.
4:30PM: I'm an hour and a half from the end of my work day and I decide to walk to the post office to pick up the bank's mail (it's about 100 yards away). The son of one of my co-workers had just been dropped off at the bank and I think it would be nice to take him with me. He's 7. He'll think I'm cool.
4:32PM: The little boy and I are walking to the post office and he jumps across the ditch. He says "can you do it too?" HA! Of course I can!
4:32:36PM: I'm ankle-deep in mud in my three-inch heels on the side of the road between the bank and the post office. The little guy gets a huge kick out of it and is belly-laughing me. He says "You made a big hole!" Thanks kid - I know.
4:40PM: I'm walking out of the post office with one hand full of mail and the other on the shoulder of my co-worker's son. He's too cool to hold hands, but I'm not goin' down because he runs out in front of a car, so we compromise. The wind is blowing soooo hard. It has to be 30 MPH.
4:41PM: We're about to cross the parking lot when a gust of wind starts to blow. The wind picks up and all of a sudden, my thin purple silk dress shirt is OVER MY FACE. The stinkin' wind BLEW MY SHIRT OVER MY HEAD. I throw the mail on the ground and scramble to pull my shirt down. I'm thinking "Suck in! Suck in!"
4:42PM: I finally get my shirt down below my bra and bend down to pick up the mail. I stand up to take inventory of who saw my debacle. The first person I make eye contact with is the Executive Vice President of the bank's sister-in-law. She's sitting in her car smiling. She sweetly rolls down her window and I ask "Did you see that?" She nods and says "mmmm. Only the tail-end sweetie." She rolls her window up with the biggest grin you've ever seen.
4:43PM: I remember the little boy who is with me and look down. I ask him if he saw what just happened and he says no. I thank the Lord for that little mercy (or his ability to lie). That poor little boy would have been scarred for life.
4:48PM: We walk back to the bank. This time when he jumps across the ditch, I walk around. I've already ruined any opportunity I might have had to be cool.
6:30PM: I finally get home and sit down on the sofa. My sweet boys are on their way home to see me.
8:30PM: The boys are finally in bed and I consider going down to the basement to finish the stencil painting that I started the night before. I just can't do it. I'm exhausted and I know two little boys who will be up before the sun tomorrow.
9:15PM: I start blogging, but before too long my eyes are burning and my yawns are getting bigger. I call it a night.
***Although I don't typically take the boys to the pediatrician's office every day, this is a great example of my every day life. Mommy first, work in the middle, and Mommy again to wrap things up. Our evenings are so crazy from the time I walk in the door until the boys go to bed, that I don't honestly remember any specific event in that time frame. I sometimes wonder if our "home life" would be more organized and structured if I were a stay-at-home mommy, but since I don't have that luxury, I let it go :)
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