How lucky for you that you’re home with your kids. I get that all the time. What do they mean by that? That I’m sitting around with my friends, watching Opera, taking pottery classes, and strolling around the mall looking for a new outfit?
The hard work of parenting is America’s best kept secret. I was stunned when I first became a parent about how needy those little creatures could be. Completely surprised. Unprepared, I wept while nursing my first son with only three hours of sleep.
We’re up at 6:00 around here. Sometimes we’re roused once or twice in the middle of the night, because somebody’s toes were cold or because of a fevered brow. It’s better since my youngest is now two, but we average about six hours of sleep.
My husband feeds them Cheerios, and then is off for work at 7:15. I dress two wiggly boys who are more interested in their trains than in putting on their own shirts. The five year old needs a packed lunch and snack and a note in his school folder. Everyone has to be at the bus stop by 8:30. After that, the day varies, because we haven’t gotten a routine yet. What doesn’t change -- the two year old needs about 7 diaper changes, two snacks and lunch, a gagillion sippy cups of juice, a nap at 11:00, 15 stories, 3 puzzles, 7 music CDs, one long stroller ride, and an eagle eye since he might slip up into the office and reboot the computer.
I usually try to accomplish three or four chores with the two year old, which involves a packed diaper bags and a snack. During the baby’s two hour nap, I respond to e-mail, return phone calls, do laundry, and have a shower. The five year old comes back at 3:30. He needs a snack and a cup of milk. He’ll play in the backyard with the neighborhood kids whose wild jumps off the playhouse are certainly going to result in a lawsuit someday. A dinner needs to be prepared in this chaos. Who knows where Ian ran off to? Tell your friend to stop cutting down the bush, Jonah! Oh, did the cat vomit in the bathroom again?
I have to make sure that they eat at least a couple peas and a bite of chicken, even though they mostly want to eat the mashed potatoes. Bathtime with shreaks of pain as I rinse out the shampoo. Dressed for bed. Oh, I really need to buy Jonah some warm pajamas in a size five. They each need a cup of milk and three stories. Sometimes Steve will come home at this point. Sometimes not. By 7:30, they have to be in bed.
After 7:30, I either scrape wallpaper or write until 11:00 or 12:00. Sometimes, I have to run to the grocery store, since I didn’t make it during the day and we absolutely have no juice boxes for Jonah’s lunch.
I’m not complaining. Watching kids sure beats grading papers. It is also a bit easier since we moved out of New York City, I do have a supportive husband, and I’m working at home right now. Things are far better than the time that I taught Intro to American Gov’t with two hours of sleep because I had a four month old baby. And let’s all take a moment of silence for Maria down the block who has quadruplets. But I do think that there is widespread blindness to the fact that having a family is hard work.
What is your daily routine? Is the grind harder or easier for parents who work full time? Why didn’t anyone tell me that it was going to be this hard? Why is everyone else so stupid as well?