An Evening In My Shoes...

I've always said that my hardest job starts after I leave the bank.  The hours of 6PM - 9PM are "go time" in our house.  I mean - it is a real zoo at the Rutledge house in the evenings.  I'm not so sure that people always take me seriously, so today I am giving you a recap of my evening yesterday.  Brace yourself.

5:20PM - I walk in the door, check the mail and change clothes.  Brandon hasn't gotten home with the kids yet, so I breathe in the quiet air and put on my tennis shoes.

5:30PM - I meet my neighbor on the sidewalk for one of our usual walks.  I really walk for my mental health more than my physical health.  It's a total sanity saver.   Have I mentioned to you all that I'm doing The Color Run this Saturday?? Yea - not ready for this one at all.

6:20PM - I am done with my walk and my family is home.  I walk in the back door to Brooks who meets me with a big happy smile and yells "We're cuttin' the gass momma!  I go with Daddy!" Brandon confirms that he's taking the boys outside to cut the grass.  Tessa's crying in her exersaucer because Brandon walked out of her line of view, so I go to pick her up.

6:23PM - Brandon asks the boys to go change pants before cutting the grass.  Brooks immediately goes to change clothes.  Will simultaneously starts whining that he loooovvvvveeeessss his current pants (pj pants) and doesn't want to change them.

6:25PM - Will is pitching a royal fit and still in pajamas.  He's literally crying so hard you would think his leg has been torn off.  (I'm going to let you in on a dirty little Rutledge marriage secret - the biggest source of angst in my marriage comes from Brandon saying one thing, and me saying another.)  So even though I couldn't care less if the child wears pajamas to cut the grass, Brandon said change clothes and I am sticking by him.  Will has to change to go outside.  I tell him that he has to stay inside with me until he can calm down, stop whining and change pants.

6:35PM - Tessa is in high chair with a Mum Mum (I really don't know what that is other than to say it looks like a disgusting baby rice cake - but she loves those things!)  Will is still crying.  I get all the ingredients for meatloaf out.  Brandon has been asking for meatloaf every night for at least a week and this is my late attempt to please him.

6:40PM - I put Will at the table with crayons, scissors, pencils and a few workbook pages.  He's still upset (and in his pajamas) and this is my feeble attempt at distracting him long enough to get the meatloaf in the oven.

6:41PM - Will is crying because he can't cut straight on the lines of his workbook page.  I remind him that he picked that page (not me) and that he can choose another page if he likes.  I still haven't touched the meatloaf.

6:45PM - Will has decided to practice handwriting rather than cutting, so I give him a new page & throw away the one he gave up on, give a crying Tessa her second Mum Mum and move back to the meatloaf ingredients. 

6:50PM - I have my bowls all ready to go - measuring cups are out and I'm about to get elbow deep in the ground beef when Will starts crying because he's noticed that I threw away the old sheet and he was "going to keeeeepppppp itttttttt."  I put on my best patient face and get down on his level - I explain that we can get a new sheet, but that he needs to calm down so that he can go outside with Brooks and Daddy.  He remembers that Brooks and Daddy are outside and goes storming off to his room screaming at the top of his lungs.  I try think about all the things that I love about him, instead of the fact that I want to strangle him.

7:00PM - Before I get all messy with ground beef, I decide to move Tessa from her high chair to the floor so that I don't have to worry about giving her snacks with ecoli hands.  Will is still crying in his room.  I shut his door to block out the noise.

7:05PM - I start dumping ingredients as fast I can into the mixing bowl.  I mix the ground beef in with my hands. 

7:06PM - Will is now kicking something in his room.  I swear under my breath and put everything back in the bowl.  I wash my hands, dry them off and walk to Will's room.  Tessa sees me walk past her room and she starts crying too.

7:10PM - I ask Will why he's crying and he says (while crying) that he doesn't know.  He's been crying for almost an hour now.  My mommy senses make me think something else is going on.  I check for fever - no fever.  I finally get him calmed down by giving in and telling him he can go outside if can change clothes and put his shoes on.  I put some blinky noisy toys in front of the crying baby and head back to the meatloaf.

7:15PM - Still mixing the meatloaf and Tessa is crying so hard that she's holding her breath.  I look at the raw ground beef in front of me and seriously consider licking it, in hopes that a good case of ecoli would mean I could lie in bed alone for a few days.  I wash my hands again and go pick her up.  I put her back in her high chair and give her another pack of baby rice cakes.  I wonder if too much rice will make her tummy hurt, but I'm too stressed to think of another solution.  She takes it, and eats it still crying.  It's her bed time and at this point I consider the time and the fact that the meatloaf takes more than an hour to cook.  I make the decision to let her cry and hurry through with getting dinner in the oven so that we can eat before 9PM.

7:16PM - Will comes into the kitchen and asks for help with his shoes.  I don't want to set him off into another crying fit, so I wash my hands and agree to help.  The baby is still crying.  And because I've washed my hands about 10 times in 30 mins, my skin feels like it's burning off when I rinse them off.  I want to cry.  I want to take the meatloaf and stick it up Brandon's nose.

7:17PM - Will finally has his shoes on and I say something funny to get a smile out of him.  He laughs and snot flies from his nose into his mouth.  He immediately starts crying AND gagging.  I hurry to get the snot out of his mouth before he pukes.  That is the last thing I need.

7:18PM - I send Will outside, put the meatloaf mixture into the baking dish and wash my hands again.  I'm pretty sure I see my actual skin peel off and go down the drain.  Tessa is still crying, so I go to her first.  Brandon walks in for a drink and I make a smart comment about how much I hope he loves his meatloaf.  He shoots me a look and slams the door as he goes back out into the yard.  That didn't go well.  Siggghhhhh.....

7:30PM - I sit down to feed Tessa.  She's as happy as a clam now that I'm holding her.  I immediately forget about the hell I've just been through and snuggle up to my sweet girl.  I think about how I was just at work 2 hours ago.  It was only 2 hours, but it feels like a lifetime ago.  I think about how different my life is from anyone I work with. 

7:45PM - The boys come in and head for the shower.  I apologize to Brandon for smarting off and he not-so-graciously accepts.

8:15PM - I lay Tessa in her crib and turn out her lights.  One down, two more to go.

8:20PM - The oven timer goes off and I put the topping on the meatloaf and put it back in the oven for 30 minutes.  The boys come bounding into the kitchen asking for their supper.  I consider the time and my energy level.  Knowing Will won't eat red meat anyway, I pop a few corn dogs into the microwave, throw some cheese puffs and applesauce on their paper plates and call it dinner.  Hey - it could be worse. 

8:35PM - The boys are done eating and beg for me to read to them.  We brush teeth, get vitamins, and head to bed with our latest (and first) chapter book - The House in the Big Woods. 

8:50PM - From the boys' bed I hear the oven timer go off.  I hear Brandon get out of his recliner and get the meatloaf out.  He sits it on the stove top.

9:15PM - I finish another chapter of the boys' book and tuck them in.  Two more hugs.  One more tuck in.  Night light on, then off, then on again.  All three children are now in bed.

9:22PM - I walk into the kitchen to find that Brandon has already cut himself a big piece of meatloaf.  There's only one problem with it - the inside is still red.  I ask him if he ate any, because obviously it needs to cook longer.  His answer "I was going to ask you about that.  How much longer does it need?"  I want to cry.  I put it back in the oven, and set the timer for 25 more minutes.  I think about how hungry I am, but also how chubby I am.  I think that the last thing I should do right now is eat meatloaf at 10PM.  So I go to bed.

At 9:30PM I walk into my bedroom, finally take off my sweaty walking clothes, brush my teeth and go to bed.  I don't shower.  I don't take my makeup off.  I feel defeated.  I feel like a crappy mom because 2 out of 3 of my kids cried all evening.  I feel like a cruddy wife because it's late and Brandon hasn't eaten dinner.  And I'm hungry.  So I just curl up in my unmade bed and go to sleep.

And THAT my friends is what a pretty typical evening in the Rutledge house looks like.  Not always - but often.  Does it make you jealous?  Yea - I didn't think so.

Back to Work

Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching reality.  Please buckle your seat belts and prepare for arrival.

Isn't it funny how quickly life brings reality back to you.  It's kind of like that beach vacation you take with your kids each year - just when they get adjusted and stop waking up at 5AM, it's time to go home.  Now the time has come for me to go back to work :(  I've spent 8 weeks getting three kiddos adjusted to mommy being at home and now we are all headed back for reality - or in their case, Grandma's.

The number one question I have been asked since having the baby is "Are you ready to go back to work yet?"  I'm not really sure how to answer that honestly.  The truth is, it doesn't matter how I feel about it, because I have to go back.  So even if I felt sad about going back to work (which I do), I have to put my big girl panties on and go back.  And that's fine - over the years, I've accumulated a lot of big girl panties, so I should have some in stock ;)  But I don't live in some sort of fantasy land where I think I am entitled to stay at home because I have given birth to a child.  The major determining factor in whether or not mommy works or doesn't in our home is health coverage for myself in our three munchkins.  Although my husband's company provides his coverage, they don't cover families.  Yes, he could find a job where they did, but he absolutely loves his job and I would never in a million years ask him to leave a job that he loves so that I can stay at home.  I think it's such a true rarity for someone to LOVE their job (not just tolerate or even like) and I'm glad he has that.

And because we both work outside of the home, our family gets an occasional vacation, my son attends a preschool that I love, and my addiction to super cool children's shoes for my kids is not seen as life altering.

I have truly enjoyed my time off with my babies. I got to take Will to school and pick him up, which to you stay-at-home mommas may sound like nothing special, but I have never gotten to do that with him. Brooks and I built lots of forts and he learned how to pedal his bicycle while I was out of leave.  I got to take all three babies on Will's field trip to the apple orchard last Friday, where we picked apples and had a picnic.  Those are all things I would have missed had I been at work.  Of course, Miss Tessa and I have enjoyed lots and lots of snuggles.  She is SUCH a sweet baby and I am truly going to miss having her as my little sidekick throughout the day.  Maybe my boss wouldn't notice if I just put her under my desk in her little bouncy seat??

As you can probably tell, I'm trying to stay positive, but the truth is that for the first time in three maternity leaves, I'm sad to go back.  Not because I think I'm an awesome stay-at-home mommy.  I'm not that great at it actually.  I am usually frazzled before breakfast and counting the hours until daddy gets home by 3.  My boys don't always mind, they may or may not take naps, and I definitely don't do any fun crafts.  Craft time is "let's go outside and play in the dirt".  I'm just going to miss my babies.  Someone once told me that it's easy to go back to work when you're children are infants, but harder as they get older.  I think that is so true.  I think a lot of the reason why I'm sad about going back this time is because I got a little taste of everything I'm missing with my boys.  I'm also pretty nervous about going back to work.  I had a REALLY bad experience when I came back to work from maternity leave with Brooks (with a different company) and as Brandon would say, I'm a little "gun-shy" this go around.  My office is pretty small - only 7 people including myself, and the group dynamic can change so much when one person is out.  I kind of feel like I'm going in blindly tomorrow.  Who knows what changes will be waiting for me :/

BUT - I do want to stay positive, and I want to give credit where credit is due:

To my husband who will probably never read this:  he has been such a help for the last 8 weeks.   Not many dads would tackle caring for three young children like he does.  I'm always amazed at how well he does with them and how well my boys mind him.  I never ever worry about leaving them with him.  I've had a couple of dinners with girlfriends, evening walks with my neighbor, etc.  and he never gives me a hard time about needing some me time.  He is also such a big support system for me.  When I feel crappy about how I look, the weight I haven't lost, or the clothes that I can't get into, he tells me how beautiful I am, he tells me to go shopping, or keeps the kids so that I can get some exercise.  Seriously, every girl should have a husband like him!

To my in-laws:  they have been so helpful with my kids.  If I needed a day with a few less bottoms to wipe, they would come and get the boys for the day.  If Brandon and I needed a night out, they would watch them so that we could go to dinner.  And ultimately, they will also be keeping all three babies 5 days a week when I go back to work and there is not enough time in the day for me to thank them enough for that.  They will be doing Will's preschool drop-off and pick-up too which is not exactly just down the street for them.  I am soooo grateful to have such wonderful in-laws.

To my parents:  although my parents both work, they are always stopping by on their days off to see the kids and me.  My boys looooovvvveeee their Gram and Pappaw and love their spend-the-night dates at my parents.  With three kids to get in the bed, and three kids who may or may not get up various times throughout the night, Brandon and I really appreciate those spend the night trips so that we only have to worry about Miss Tessa for just one night.  My mom also spent her only day off last week with me and Tessa at the mall while I tried on a blue million dresses for a wedding this past weekend.  I know what it's like to just have one day to do everything you need to get done on your day off, and I really appreciate that she chose to spend that time with me :)

For my friends and neighbors who have visited, made suppers, called and offered to help with the boys, you have no idea how much I appreciate each one of you.  If you ever want to find out who your sweetest friends are, have a baby.  They will be the ones who feed you, love on your baby, encourage you, and make you laugh even if it's just over the phone.  I am truly blessed with a great group of friends!

To all my friends out there who, like me, are working moms - I just picked up a copy of a book called Just Let Me Lie Down, by Kristin van Ogtrop.  She is a working mother of three and HILARIOUS.  In her book, she defines a working mom's balancing act:

Balancing Act: a hilarious notion that some feminist (or come to think of it, it may have been an antifeminist) came up with to describe what any working mother must do: that is, bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan.  But the skillet is very, very heavy, and on certain days you don't even feel like you can pick it up.  Other days you'd like to use it as a weapon - and would, if it didn't mean certain arrest, which would have negative playground ramifications for your kids.  On these days you really are just acting, to very little applause.

So I'm back to the balancing act tomorrow.  I'm crazy nervous, pretty sad, but more or less just ready to get back to our reality.  Say a prayer for me - that I'm nervous over nothing, that the day flies by, and that my babies have a great day at Grandma's (that part I'm not very worried about).  Thanks in advance!!

A Day in the Life of a Working Mother

Yes, I realize that I've done a post of this nature before, but that was on a Saturday - just me and the boys.  That's not really a fair glimpse into my everyday life because in truth, that happens very rarely.  So here we go - my every day life - a day in the life of a working mother.

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 babysitter Disney channel.

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 :)