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A life in the day
By ella | May 3, 2006
7.00 Get up. Shower while baby gnaws hungrily at hand. Dry hair; baby drifts off into noise-induced slumber. Switch off drier; baby screams with indignant hunger.
7.10 The older two start shouting: “Mummy I got pooey nappy.” “Mummy, is it time to get up yet? CAN I SAY HELLO TO THE BABY? IS HE AWAKE?” Well, if he wasn’t he would be now.
7.15 Downstairs to the playroom where I feed the baby. Matthew gets up and comes down to help get the children dressed.
7.20-7.30 Wind the baby. He vomits feed then two seconds later burps properly. Get paper towel to clear up sick then find dogs have done it in the interim. Disinfect vomit/saliva covered floor. Thank God for hardwood floors. Make mental note not to let the dogs lick any of the children ever again.
7.35 Change three nappies.
7.41 The two youngest poop. Change two nappies.
7.45 Get breakfast on the go - porridge for one, toast for the other - with baby propped in one arm. Matthew makes me a cappuccino then heads off to a meeting in London. Eat breakfast with baby feeding. Try not to slop too much milky cereal in his ear.
8.00 Tell children to hurry up. Second Son starts smearing porridge over table. Remind him that porridge will go in bin if he doesn’t eat it. More smearing. Give second warning. Final smearing with bad smile on face. Throw porridge in bin. Second Son stares wistfully at smeared porridge on table then starts to eat it.
8.15 Brush all sets of teeth and heads of hair. Get baby undressed and cover him with olive oil to combat all-over-body eczema. Baby giggles uncontrollably. He’s so cute I could eat him. And as he’s covered in olive oil, perhaps literally. Dress him and feed him and burp him some more. Then some more. Then some more. Put washing on. Start to unload dishwasher. Get lunch bread and meat for supper out of freezer.
9.00 School run aka military operation number 1 of the day. Eldest Son brings me baby’s car seat, Second Son brings baby blanket, each get respective coats and shoes on, get their toy and stand silently by back door. Today I don’t shout once. They know whatever else they do during the day they will not muck with me at this point in the day. It’s not worth it.
9.15 Deposit Eldest Son at school.
9.25 Drive to Waitrose. Spend several minutes choosing presents for my friend Cally who had her baby yesterday, presents for the older girls, present for the baby, present for the mummy. Choose flowers for our neighbour whose husband died yesterday. Pick up some bits for supper. Throw a few other things in. Am astounded when the checkout total comes to £132. I can’t have more than 12 or 13 things in the trolley.
Run over pheasant on the way home. Well, actually run over pheasant that has rebounded off the car coming in the opposite direction. Technically I didn’t kill it so consider picking it up for supper* but can’t be bothered to go back. Or pluck the damn thing.
* The pheasant was killed by the other car. I DID NOT consider picking up a half-alive pheasant and bringing it home for supper.
10.30 Get home, pour coffee. Slightly dozing baby starts to wake. Check messages. Estate agent has phoned, someone wants to view the house on Saturday. Phone him back. Realise I forgot to get flowers for the house while at Waitrose. Remember that buyers are not fooled by ‘staging’ and that flowers don’t disguise the smell of dog either. Think I should start cleaning for the house viewing but saved by baby waking. Feed baby and burp him. Repeat.
10.45 Make some changes to the business website. Remember I haven’t posted to blog in a week. Check blog. Hmmmm….
11.15 Play with Second Son who’s bored. Feed baby, who’s hungry again.
11.45 Write letter of condolence to neighbour.
12.00 School run. Talk to Harry’s teacher about the speech therapy he had today. She wants to go back to the method we were using before the current one which didn’t work either. I’m less than thrilled.
12.30 Get home, make sandwiches with babe in one arm. Feed boys, feed baby. Explain that T., our neighbour, died. Explain the whole concept of the soul leaving the body and going up to heaven to be with God. Lots of questions followed by silence. Then Eldest Son burps and the whole place descends into giggling chaos.
1.00 Second Son goes to bed: ‘I go bed now Mummy, I tired.’ Practice speech with Eldest Son. Youngest Son so tired now he will not sleep and can only cry. Abandon speech therapy. Check messages. My boss called asking how much longer before he can have the track I am working on. Am relieved I was out when he called. Wrap presents.
2.00 Get Second Son up and head over to Cally’s to meet the new baby. Feel broody. Laugh over previously made arrangement while pregnant to swap Youngest Son with Youngest Daughter if we didn’t have a daughter and son respectively. Think about swapping Youngest Son with Youngest Daughter (not really folks!). Tell Cally that Matthew agreed last night to having a daughter but had to remind him the next one might also be a son. Agreed we would definitely stop after four. Unless maybe the next one was another boy I said under my breath….
4.00 Get home. Boys start fighting and screaming. Baby has slept a total of about 22 minutes today and will not stop crying unless I am holding him. Prepare baby curry for boys supper. Consider pancakes for pudding but decide too much work with babe in arms and opt for strawberries instead. Eat an apple. Baby looks desperately at it. Let him lick it as he’s unofficially more than 4 months old now. He looks at me like I am the best thing ever.
4.15 Baby falls asleep in arms. Put him in cot.
4.16 Baby wakes up. He’s really cross that I duped him.
4.20 Baby feeds but still cross that I duped him and pounds my boobies with his fist. Eldest Son asks to go to park. Tell him he can play in garden instead. He says he can’t because a fox will eat him. Long (ongoing for the last week) discussion about why foxes won’t hurt him.
5.00 Supper time. Field questions about God, dying, Youngest Son dying, Mummy dying, dogs dying (strangely not Matthew dying), questions about being eaten by foxes which morphs into questions about crocodiles, elephants and dinosaurs eating us.
5.30 ‘Lovely supper Mummy’ and off they go to play on their ride-on toys. Harry shouts ‘I’m just going up to see God Mummy’ Tell him that R., our neighbour, is sad that T. died and that we shouldn’t joke about God. ‘I’m just going to see a pretend God Mummy,’ he replied piously. Clear up the unholy mess that is the kitchen and sitting room.
6.00 Bath time. Boys pour water over their willies and pretend to pee in the jugs. Harry tells me he is pooing and produces a sponge from between his legs as evidence. I wonder where my sweet boys have gone. Answer more questions about foxes eating us. Feed baby while perched on the loo and consider how my standards have slipped since the first baby. Matthew calls to say goodnight to the boys. The baby poos everywhere. It leaks all over the chair he is lying in. Curse and get boys out of bath to run new bath to put baby in. Baby poos in bath. Curse and run third bath of the evening.
6.30 Lay baby in cot while I put away laundry. Dig out a black tie outfit for a party on Saturday. Wonder if I have anything that fits. Consider effort of packing up four boys and self for the weekend away. Wonder how I will get house clean and tidy for potential buyer before leaving for the weekend away. Baby gets cross and wants more feeding. Consider whether can put off introducing baby rice until after weekend away (less to pack).
6.45 Peering out the boys’ window I can see the undertakers at the neighbour’s house. Eldest Son asks ‘is T’s face in the van?’ I explain they take the body away not just the face. ‘No, Mummy, if I won’t see him again, it’s because they’ve taken his face,’ he replies. ‘Did a fox eat him?’ he asks. I change the subject.
7.00 Boys in bed. ‘Has your tummy gone down now?’ Harry asks. ‘When are we going to have a baby sister?’ he sighs. Go downstairs and consider pouring a glass of wine. Remember that breastfeeding and decide against it. Wonder whether if I had a glass of wine it would help the baby sleep. Have a glass of water.
7.05 Matthew calls, he won’t be back until late. I’m starving. Eat four jaffa cakes. Remember that they’re only 1g of fat and have two more. Wish I had more will power. Dig out Spanx pants to wear to black tie do on Saturday. So fat that I can hardly get into the pants that will make me less fat.
7.30 Cover baby in olive oil. He falls asleep while I rub it into his sore, cracked skin. Put him on sofa next to me and make phone calls. Eldest Son wakes. He had a nightmare about a fox eating him. Consider how sick of foxes I am now.
7.40 Put on more washing so clothes clean for weekend away. Iron Matthew’s black tie shirt. Call a local village girl about helping me with the children after school. She seems really keen. I don’t tell her that my children whine, laugh excessively over bodily functions and fight all the time. Call a friend to make playdate for tomorrow. She says her friend’s son has chickenpox and they are trying to arrange a chickenpox playdate. I ask her to include us. Then wonder if I can cope with three children with chickenpox if they do catch it.
9.00 Matthew gets back and asks about my day. I tell him he can read all about it in a few minutes on my blog. Tell him anyway because I am so desperate for adult conversation, even if it is about the children.
9.30 Read in village newspaper that friend buried the ashes of her entire family last week. Go upstairs and kiss all my boys, grateful for every moment I have with them.
10.00 Post to blog. Consider how much more I could have got done this evening if I hadn’t spent time typing post. Start tidying up and clearing up supper stuff.
10.30 Feed baby.
11.00 Go to bed exhausted. Wonder if I’ll dream about being eaten by a fox.
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Categories: Too Many Children
I have to ask…does the olive oil work? We have excema covered children in this house. We’ve cut out all dairy, and it helped some, but still the little one is itchy and miserable.
Yes, but it doesn’t get rid of his eczema entirely and it makes everything oily. I like it though because it’s a natural remedy and he loves the massage.
I thought my day was busy! When do you find the time to write too?
Oh, Ella. That post made ME exhausted. I forget how much more hectic it was when Bug was a baby.
But, your writing is so perfect that I chuckled all the way through! I hope all works out nicely for you this weekend. And that the trip is blessedly fox-free.