I am awakened by the warm sun streaming in through the open french doors of my bedroom. Sheer white curtains billow softly in the morning breeze, revealing glimpses of an azure sea sparkling below. I stretch luxuriously, then pad downstairs to make a hearty breakfast of farm-raised bacon, freshly gathered eggs, and homemade cinnamon rolls to fuel my family before they enthusiastically dive into their work for the day. I cradle my mug of organic green tea as my children greet each other with sweet hugs and kind words. After our repast, they return the kitchen to its normal spotless state, then begin clamoring to start school, which takes place outside in a glorious field of lavender….
I am awakened by the sound of my childrens’ shrieking voices as they argue over which episode of Phinneas and Ferb they are going to watch after shoveling in what remains in their cereal bowl after they’ve dotted the kitchen in milk and Cheerios. They got up with Jim half an hour ago and I know I should get up before he heads to work. Plus, I have to pee.
I stagger down the stairs and grouse at everyone to turn the television off and quit hollering at me about Legos until after I’ve had some coffee. I get some coffee-laced sugary milk and settle in front of my computer.
After an hour or so, I remember that we are homeschoolers, and attempt to round up the kids. Big convinces me that he needs 15 more minutes because there is a forest fire/hurricane/alien invasion in Jerkly-Massim (his bizarrely-named Lego city). That’s fine with me, I just had a brilliant blog post idea about dried pee and I want to write it down before it’s lost to the abyss of Sleep-Deprived Peri-Menopause Brain.
Eventually, I get everyone settled at the table, and alternate between encouraging Big that yes, he can do his math problems, and gently chastising him to quit whining and get on with it. I also say things like, “People! There are TWO babies and ONE mommy, so one person at a time, please!” and “STOP MAKING THAT NOISE.” and “Dude! Quit messing around with the letter tiles and get with it!” and “FOCUS!” and “no, you may not have a snack. quit procrastinating and do your work.”
…and so on, and so forth, ad nauseam.
Big finds all kinds of reasons why this whole thing is interfering with his plans for the day, and I am waiting for the moment when he realizes that all his negotiating and complaining is actually what takes so long; and Little smugly crows how much she just loooooves school. At least until her hand starts hurting and it’s too hard to write a proper 3. This year, school is going to be a lot more than pink glittery stickers with a small side of cartoony math workbooks, and I’m mildly curious to see how she’s going to take the news.
I check Twitter on my phone and am relieved to find my friends there to listen to my whingeing.
I always want to have bookwork wrapped up by lunch so we can each have the afternoon to ourselves, but sometimes it doesn’t work out and we start the whole thing again after a break. Afternoons are also time for geoduck notebooking or playing outside or maybe even making a dinner plan.
Or, you know. Cruising Pinterest in search of a dinner plan. Whatever.
Eventually, Daddy comes home from work, and I am forced to abandon my blog reading or google chatting and figure out dinner for reals. We talk, we watch some news, and I tell him
whether or not his children were a pain in my butt how school went that day. After dinner, the kids climb all over Dad while I take a shower. We get everyone jammied-up, then I read aloud for a while in the hopes that the kids will settle down enough to go right to sleep so Jim and I can get our teevee on without interruption.
When we think the kids are asleep, we eat cookies.
Sometimes I stay up late and gleefully watch The Real Housewives of Anywhere.
Please tell me some of that sounds familiar, and I am not just incredibly lame…?
To read more Day-in-the-Life stories, click over to the Blog Hop!