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About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Someone send this woman a lasagna

Okay, okay. I was wrong to get rid of My-day-sucks-worse than-yours-Wednesday. So very wrong. Did you have to be quite so zealous about letting me know?

This shitty day comes to us from Delana, a fellow mom whose diet needs a little more, um, balancing. And Hubby needs a swift kick to the groin.

6:00 am — Coffee pot starts.

6:15 am — Baby is up and playing in the crib, so I make him a bottle and a daycare bottle and daycare juice.

6:25 am — Heat a blueberry pancake for baby, break it into 100 miniscule pieces, and put it on his tray. Get him a sippy of water. I eat the edges of the pancake.

7:15 am — Finish getting ready.

7:20 am — Get baby. Change a poopy diaper, grab some toys and tell Hubby to get up. Hubby rolls over, grunts and sleeps.

7:30 am — Drive 30 minutes.

8:00 am — Drop baby at daycare.

8:15 am — Drive to work.

9:30 am — Try to teach class to 20 teenagers. Give them back their exams, tell them how crappy they are.

11:00 am — Back to office.

12:30 pm — Lunch.

1:45 pm — Back to work. Can't get motivated.

3:30 pm — Go to a meeting lead by the one person that is the most cluesess in our department. Try not to roll my eyes too many times.

5:00 pm — Get baby at daycare. Make him a bottle in the car and strap him in. He drinks his bottle and falls asleep.

5:35 pm — Get home. Hubby and our daughter are already home (they left after me and got home before me, how is that fair?) Make dinner for baby while Hubby cuts the grass.

6:00 pm — Feed baby (he self feeds, I just slap it on the tray). Ask Hubby to give baby a bath ‘cause I don't feel good. He says, "I don't do baths" and he goes and plays Xbox.

6:15 pm — Give baby a bath.

6:40 pm — Baby spits up and needs new shirt.

7:10 pm — Hubby makes a bottle for baby, then says he is done with baby duty for the day and goes back to Xbox.

7:35 pm — Put him to bed.

7:42 pm — Eat one chicken nugget and one oreo for dinner.

8 pm — Pick out clothes for next day.

9 pm — In bed.

1 comment:

Melissa said...

That is sucky. I'll say a prayer that the Xbox gets the red ring of death that ours just got.