Monday, June 08, 2009

a morning in the life. subtitled: why i don't twitter

This is not every morning. Some days I'm more engaged, some days I am less. Some days we go out. But here is, to the best of my memory, exactly how today went.

8:03 a.m. - I walk into the kitchen, having just made the breakfast trade-off (another story for another time). Silas has finished his breakfast and is happily climbing on toys in his room. Asher is eating breakfast and watching Dora. I look out the window and think, I love the mornings. I wonder how my tomatos are? One is close to turning red; I wonder if it's ready yet? I sneak out back and peek - A red tomato! My very first ripe tomato - I need a picture.

I go to the camera and realize the picture card is still in the reader (or whatever the thing is called that you use to download pictures). But the card reader is not where it usually ...

Phone rings.

I answer the phone and keep looking ... not on top of the dresser ... I look down, and Silas is holding his arms up for me. I pick him up and keep talking.

8:29 a.m. I hang up the phone. Dora is over, breakfast is over, Silas needs a clean diaper and a nap.

8:47 a.m. Everyone is clean, fed, and pottied. Silas has been sung to and is protesting sleepily from his bed. I go into the master bathroom to turn on the big fan (the necessary white noise for Silas to sleep). I walk out, look around my room, and think, seriously? When am I going to finish what I started six months ago in here? Today, that's when. Asher is putting his train set together in his room, as happy to be left alone for a little while as I am. I empty the drawers to the dresser and put our clothes in the bedside tables, glad to be able to check one more thing off the eternal list.

9:17 a.m. Phone rings. It's my friend who just moved; I'm glad to have a minute to talk to her.

9:25 a.m. Asher is no longer interested in being alone. I'm sitting on his floor on the phone while he is orbiting me. He pulls his tent out of the closet. The baby wakes up. We'll see how long my phone call lasts.

9:34 a.m. I take Silas out of his bed. My friend explains to her daughter, "Honey, we're talking about something important. I need you to play by yourself for a little while," and I smile, thinking both of how true that is and how futile it is to say it. Our kids are not going to just hang out while we talk on the phone, but that's okay. We are accustomed to talking over (and in and through and around) the din.

9:45 a.m. Asher is whacking things - and people - with his tent pegs. Silas is crawling inside the tent while I'm trying to put it together. I give. I'll call you back.

9:55 a.m. Tent is built, but Asher has lost interest. Asher is melting down, Silas is pulling up on me. Snack time.

10:17 a.m. Everyone is in the backyard. My sister-in-law found a pull-up toy for Silas at a yard sale and gave it to us yesterday; I realize this would be a perfect makeshift water table for him, since he's not so keen on the baby pool with his brother and a running hose nearby (I don't blame him). Silas is splashing at his table, Asher is watering every green thing, all is right in the world. I run to grab my camera.

10:18 a.m. Success! Found the picture card.



11:10 a.m. Somewhere along the way Silas has picked up some grass, and is now developing welts on his chest where his fingers must have rubbed after dropping it. My allergic baby. They're exhausted anyway from our marathon weekend. I go inside (Silas in tow) to get ready for an early lunch and nap. Asher wants to splash ONE MORE TIME - fine with me.

12:02 p.m. Lunch is over. Silas has been bathed to make sure he's not going to nap among the pollon. Asher has been to the potty three times. He DOES NOT WANT TO GO, but I know his little system, and he NEEDS to go. I give. If he has an accident at nap, I'll clean it up. Wrestling him onto the toilet is not good for morale, his or mine.

12:16 p.m. Silas is in bed, again protesting nap. Asher is calling from his bed, "Mama I need to go potty RIGHT NOW." The dog opens Silas's door, adding to the baby's dismay that his mother would just ABANDON him in bed at naptime ... I put Asher on the potty, soothe the baby, put him back to bed, reprimand the dog, tuck Asher in one last time. Whew.

12:27 p.m. All is quiet. I pick up sippee cups from the living room and walk into the kitchen. I look out the kitchen window again and remember my ripe tomato.

And take this:



Efficient, I am not. But happy, I am.

4 comments:

Madame Rubies said...

I must admit I don't miss the toddler days, but I do miss regular nap time. LOL! SOunds like a perfect mommy day, Steph. But, it doesn't explain why you don't twitter. ;)

Jamie said...

What is Twitter?

Shannon said...

Twitter is basically another social network where you to "tell" people what your doing all day. But because Steph is a busy lady, she just doesn't have time to fool with it, right? lol I have one but I rarely use it. Facebook is my addiction now.

mary said...

I want to grow my own tomatoes!

But, it just looks so cute. How could you pick it and eat it until it has some little tomato friends?