The Long Day Is Over
You know that Norah Jones song, "The Long Day Is Over"? If it hadn't been such a long day, I'd find it on my iPod and play it. But I'm too tired to go through the trouble.
An easy-to-read, story-like narrative of what is, really, a pretty typical day for us these days is beyond my capabilities at the moment. I so wish days like today were rarer. Marathons. These days are marathons at full-on sprint speed. It's exhausting.
So, I'll describe via time points:
12:41 a.m. Charlotte wakes up crying. I soothe, lay down with her, and finally leave.
12:51 a.m. Charlotte cries again. Mommies, you know that cry. That "something's not quite right" cry. Both Chris and I go in. I notice her frantically scratching her chest. I flip on the light, and my girl is covered head to toe in what, after much Googling, we believe was a horrid heat rash. (Yesterday was a VERY hot and humid day.)
1:15 a.m. Begin cortisone cream lathering.
1:45 a.m. Decide Charlotte can sleep in our bed. She's itchy and uncomfortable and super clingy.
2:30 a.m. Realize that an active sleeper is tough to sleep next to, and an itchy one is even worse.
3:00 a.m. Doze off.
3:30 a.m. Chris's alarm clock goes off. Dude has a flight to Chicago to catch. Poor guy.
5:00 a.m. My alarm goes off.
5:34 a.m. I actually get up. Am. So. Tired. Get coffee and shower, worrying the entire time about work.
6:05 a.m. Sleepy Charlotte wanders into the bathroom, rash-free (yay!) but upset she's wet. And she is. Her effing Cinderella pull-up diaper leaked on her PJs. And--upon closer inspection--on Chris's entire side of the bed. (Fun fact: The sheets were just changed the day before.)
6:08 a.m. Start load of laundry--sheets, bed pad.
7:07 a.m. Leave the house WAY too late. Traffic sucks to boot.
7:40 a.m. Get to school. Late. Continue worrying about work.
(undisclosed [late] time): Arrive at work. Work. And have crappy, crappy day.
3:37 p.m. Have what I believe was yet another panic attack. Feel like anxiety and stress will swallow me whole.
5:09 p.m. Leave work late, with more work to do, but MUST pick up the girls. Get stuck in traffic. Almost implode. Feel like I'll NEVER make it to the girls' school.
5:45 p.m. FINALLY pick up girls. Lorelei greets me with her trademark grin, and I melt. I love her. Charlotte greets me with a boisterous "MOMMY!" and hug. I love her. Driving home, we sing together--until thunderstorms make it to dangerous and I have to concentrate. Oh, and more traffic, until I hit my country roads.
6:30 p.m. Home. Feed children. Prep Lorelei for bed and give her her last couple ounces of formula. Before bed, Charlotte climbs into the rocking chair with us, and I hold both my girls while they giggle goofily at each other, all of us crowded and squished in the chair. I love them.
7:36 p.m. Close Charlotte's door. She's down for the night--36 minutes too late. All because of traffic and me being unable to leave work.
7:37 p.m. Transfer pee sheets from the morning to dryer and start new load of laundry.
7:38 p.m. Chris calls from the plane, sitting on the runway. Flight delayed due to weather. Bad.
7:39 p.m. Work. Feel irritated about it.
9:00 p.m. Stop working. Make dinner (Top Ramen--don't judge) and everyone's lunches.
9:30 p.m. Eat. Watch re-run of Sex & the City. Am not jealous of Carrie Bradshaw, for once, because I will see several of my girls in L.A. shortly.
10:15 p.m. Bed pad still not dry. Crap! I really want to go to bed! More dryer time. I start this post while I wait.
10:48 p.m. FINALLY make bed. Continue blog post.
11:15 p.m. Hear garage door opening. My guy is home! After about 45 minutes on the runway, his plane got unexpected clearance to depart.
And now, I leave you, so I can greet him. OH MY GOODNESS what a long day.
An easy-to-read, story-like narrative of what is, really, a pretty typical day for us these days is beyond my capabilities at the moment. I so wish days like today were rarer. Marathons. These days are marathons at full-on sprint speed. It's exhausting.
So, I'll describe via time points:
12:41 a.m. Charlotte wakes up crying. I soothe, lay down with her, and finally leave.
12:51 a.m. Charlotte cries again. Mommies, you know that cry. That "something's not quite right" cry. Both Chris and I go in. I notice her frantically scratching her chest. I flip on the light, and my girl is covered head to toe in what, after much Googling, we believe was a horrid heat rash. (Yesterday was a VERY hot and humid day.)
1:15 a.m. Begin cortisone cream lathering.
1:45 a.m. Decide Charlotte can sleep in our bed. She's itchy and uncomfortable and super clingy.
2:30 a.m. Realize that an active sleeper is tough to sleep next to, and an itchy one is even worse.
3:00 a.m. Doze off.
3:30 a.m. Chris's alarm clock goes off. Dude has a flight to Chicago to catch. Poor guy.
5:00 a.m. My alarm goes off.
5:34 a.m. I actually get up. Am. So. Tired. Get coffee and shower, worrying the entire time about work.
6:05 a.m. Sleepy Charlotte wanders into the bathroom, rash-free (yay!) but upset she's wet. And she is. Her effing Cinderella pull-up diaper leaked on her PJs. And--upon closer inspection--on Chris's entire side of the bed. (Fun fact: The sheets were just changed the day before.)
6:08 a.m. Start load of laundry--sheets, bed pad.
7:07 a.m. Leave the house WAY too late. Traffic sucks to boot.
7:40 a.m. Get to school. Late. Continue worrying about work.
(undisclosed [late] time): Arrive at work. Work. And have crappy, crappy day.
3:37 p.m. Have what I believe was yet another panic attack. Feel like anxiety and stress will swallow me whole.
5:09 p.m. Leave work late, with more work to do, but MUST pick up the girls. Get stuck in traffic. Almost implode. Feel like I'll NEVER make it to the girls' school.
5:45 p.m. FINALLY pick up girls. Lorelei greets me with her trademark grin, and I melt. I love her. Charlotte greets me with a boisterous "MOMMY!" and hug. I love her. Driving home, we sing together--until thunderstorms make it to dangerous and I have to concentrate. Oh, and more traffic, until I hit my country roads.
6:30 p.m. Home. Feed children. Prep Lorelei for bed and give her her last couple ounces of formula. Before bed, Charlotte climbs into the rocking chair with us, and I hold both my girls while they giggle goofily at each other, all of us crowded and squished in the chair. I love them.
7:36 p.m. Close Charlotte's door. She's down for the night--36 minutes too late. All because of traffic and me being unable to leave work.
7:37 p.m. Transfer pee sheets from the morning to dryer and start new load of laundry.
7:38 p.m. Chris calls from the plane, sitting on the runway. Flight delayed due to weather. Bad.
7:39 p.m. Work. Feel irritated about it.
9:00 p.m. Stop working. Make dinner (Top Ramen--don't judge) and everyone's lunches.
9:30 p.m. Eat. Watch re-run of Sex & the City. Am not jealous of Carrie Bradshaw, for once, because I will see several of my girls in L.A. shortly.
10:15 p.m. Bed pad still not dry. Crap! I really want to go to bed! More dryer time. I start this post while I wait.
10:48 p.m. FINALLY make bed. Continue blog post.
11:15 p.m. Hear garage door opening. My guy is home! After about 45 minutes on the runway, his plane got unexpected clearance to depart.
And now, I leave you, so I can greet him. OH MY GOODNESS what a long day.
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