Good morning! I’m a little excited today, because I’m sitting downstairs taking my sweet time getting ready to go to school. I worked out later than usual last night, so I’m pretending the shower I took at 9 pm was recent enough to count for today. Totally counts, right? While I’m sippin’ away at my coffee this morning, I thought I might as well get a post done.
Every so often, I’ll get asked things like “How do you get everything done?” or “How do you find time in the day?”. My first thought is to just laugh hysterically. I never feel like I get everything done or that there is enough time in the day. Instead of getting on here and trying to explain all of that, it seemed easier to just show what a typical day right now looks like. I love reading “Day in the Life” posts when other people share them, so I guess it’s only fitting for me to slap one up, too. This is a peek into my Monday (aka yesterday).
Wake up and have no idea who I am, where I am, or what day it is. I was sleeping hard. I roll around trying to convince myself to actually get out of bed. It takes a few attempts, but I finally crawl out of there like a scene from The Ring.
I shower and get ready for the day. I slather on my miracle workers (otherwise known as makeup) to help me look like a functioning member of society. I stare at the bags under my eyes and wonder if they would meet the standard weight and size requirements for a US Air carry-on. I pull out the concealer.
I skip curling my hair, so that I have time to make eggs and coffee. Sacrifices, am I right? I make my eggs in the microwave. Power level 7 + stirring them every 30 minutes makes them almost perfect. I add a crap ton of cheese, though, so it really doesn’t matter if they were cardboard.
The little man wakes up and makes me hand him a chocolate milk. We turn on the Disney channel and watch for a few minutes while I change him into his outfit and tell him how awesome school will be. He doesn’t believe me.
We get to his daycare and he half-heartedly gives me a thumbs up. When I actually take him in, though, he melts down. I hate Mondays, too, kid. He almost rips my shirt off while the teacher peels him off of me. I try not to cry as I run to the car.
I get to work and I have a letter in my box. This stuff makes my day every single time. I start to wonder what furry stairs are.
We eat lunch at 10, which is now when I expect lunch on the weekends. It’s an issue. I have a salad with shrimp and a million other toppings. I went a little wild when I made this week’s jars.
School’s out! Mondays call for cheap coffee on the drive to get my boy. I think my coffee looks weird, but I drink it anyway.
When Maddux and I get home, we play trains and eat a snack. And by play trains, I mean I’m allowed to watch him play. He is so serious about his train tracks that I can’t touch them. He perfects his tracks and then I clap. Times 3,000. Somewhere around here, Ryne comes home from work. He is greeted like a king. Dads have it made.
We go outside to play. I film a quick workout while Ryne and the toddler practice their chip shots in the backyard. We all look ridiculous in one way or another.
We preheat the grill and prepare the dough for pizza. I swear we grill them at least once a week. Tonight I grab the ingredients for white, veggie, and buffalo shrimp. I get way too excited about it.
Ryne does all the actual cooking, because he says I always mess it up. Accurate. I get too distracted for grilling, so I burn the crust 99% of the time. He sits and stares at the grill, so his are always perfect.
Time to eat! I burn my mouth about thirty times, and my son won’t even touch his pizza. I question if we’re even related. He eats a banana and a cheese stick instead. I eat his pizza off of his plate. Fair enough.
The filthy toddler (kids are always dirty, I swear!) gets a bath and he sings some song I can’t make out. I love his age right now. He refuses to let me help him wash up, so he tries to do it on his own. Big stuff. We dry him off and get him in his pajamas, and then we all watch Tangled until we put him to bed.
One of us is now asleep, so I can’t convince myself to work out because I’m jealous. I want to be asleep. I play on the internet instead of working out or sleeping.
I finally convince myself to throw some shoes on and go for a quick run on the treadmill. I choose a preset workout, because who has the brain capacity to think this late? Not me. It was a sprint interval workout that lasted thirty minutes and changed the pace every minute or two. Just interesting enough to keep me on there.
I chug some water, eat a cheese stick (we love them in our house), and get in bed. My hair soaks my pillow but I sleep on it anyway. I crash hard.
So, yeah. I don’t actually get that much accomplished, I just pretend to be busy all day. Things I didn’t do that I was supposed to do: participate in a Twitter chat, write a blog post draft, create a PDF in Photoshop, clean up the house, and about a million other things. I never go to bed feeling like I got it all done. Is that bad? I hope that’s pretty common, or I’m going to feel like a huge loser. Well, I better go! My little sleeping beauty will be up any second and I need to have his chocolate milk ready and waiting. He’s such a diva. 😉