Those Were The Days
From 5 am to 6 am. I brew coffee and check my facebook, because sometimes it’s more informative than watching the news, and 99% of the time it’s more hilarious. Coffee involved, Motrin involved, I’m not sitting in jail, no one died last night, hoping for a great day, so far, so good.
6 am to 7 am. I am trying to get Abby to tell me what she wants for breakfast. The cereal looks like dog food according to her so she refuses to eat it. I usually get the “oh gwama I don’t like eggs” um yes she does? And to address the gwama name, even though she has called me mee mee since she could talk (until a month ago), she has now been calling me gwanpa for a week and has changed her name to Susie, but that’s a whole other story. I chug down coffee before it reaches the bottom of the pot, YES WHILE IT’S STILL BREWING, while Abby AKA Susie decides if she wants eggs, pannycakes, or God forbid, fried chicken for breakfast. My coffee is wearing off. I’m not doing so great. Another pot brewing.
7 am to 8 am. Abby has been fed and is trying to decide what she wants for lunch (already?). I’m trying to clean the kitchen but I’m in desperate need of more coffee, while halfway listening to her ramblings about how starved she is and wondering how long before lunch will be ready, I’m also trying to figure out how the majority of everything I cooked is either on the floor, or in other parts of the house. Coffee is brewing again, my senses are starting to perk back up.
8 am to 9 am. Abby has managed to bring in all of the puppies AND lose them so we are trying desperately to find them before they mistake the carpet for “grass”. Bending, trying to squish 110 pounds (me) and 40 plus pounds (Abby) under the beds that is 150 plus pounds in case anyone didn’t pass basic math, things are starting to turn South. Finally, we round up the puppies and take them out to feed them.
9 am to 10 am. Abby hyper, mee mee aching, Abby hyper, mee mee aching, Abby hyper, mee mee aching. I take Abby outside and let her run to her heart’s content. I then end up running 2 miles to catch her to make her come indoors. More Motrin, more coffee.
10 am to 11 am. I’m cleaning, sorta, I clean- she un-cleans, she un-cleans- I clean, I clean- she un-cleans…
11:00 am to 12 pm. Dear Lord. Help me. It’s now time to fix another meal. I start drinking 2 cups of coffee at once. AT ONCE!!! I repeat (because I tend to repeat myself), I start drinking 2 cups of coffee at once. AT ONCE!!!
12 pm to 2 pm. I’m out of my mind.
2 pm to 3 pm. HALLELUJAH thank the good Lord for Curious George (even though from 2:30 to 3:00 I have to explain WHY Abby AKA Susie can’t watch Curious George again). Believe me, she could if it would come on. COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE
3 pm to 4 pm. Sitting on the couch, can’t move. Too tired to hold a coffee cup, trying. Too tired to re-pick up, trying. All logic has left me at this point. Coffee, Motrin, coffee coffee coffee. No wonder I can’t sleep at night.
4 pm to 6 pm. Constantly calling the time convinced my clocks have stopped working, ALL OF THEM…. calling, calling, calling….
At some point, I realize not only has Abby’s mom gotten off from work and has come to reclaim her “angel” I’ve cooked supper and finished the laundry. And I don’t even have to remember doing it. My blood pressure comes down. I start to relax. I start to remember my name. It’s gwanpa right?
6 pm – midnight. I’m doing much better. :). MUCH!
M U C H ! B E T T E R !
7 pm-ish, somewhere in Georgia… I did not get everything accomplished that I hoped to today. But you know what? It’s not the end of the world.
And Abby got a boo boo which really ruined my day. She hit the corner of a window sill, she cried 30 seconds, I cried 3 hours. She forgot about it and took a nap. I didn’t forget about it and took pictures.
Tonight I’m going to cuddle, read a book, watch the tube, and listen to some music. Tomorrow is another day. And it’s also the day I get to rest and relax.
Windows sills now have furniture in front of them so Abby can’t bump her little nose again.
I get to sleep in tomorrow, which means I won’t. I only want to sleep in when I can’t…
Seems like just yesterday Abby was 3 and Curious George was all the rage. Now she’s worried about passing her tests to go to the 4th grade and I’m feeling a big loss during my days. I really miss my crazy hectic days.