SQUIRREL!

I've truly decided...  If you're ever having any sort of identity crisis, you should take a week to be a stay-at-home of school aged children.  It will definitely open your eyes as to just who you are, deep down.  Now that I am a stay-at-home, with a routine of sorts under my belt, I thought to come back from my hiatus and share with you exactly what a day in my head is like.

If you are faint of heart, do not continue reading.  If you don't like run on sentences, don't continue reading.  If you are going to get all uppity about my colorful use of curse words, for the love of Christ, DO NOT continue reading.  If you're still reading, however...here goes.

This morning started off like any other.  I woke kids up, oversaw breakfast, bag packing, shoe putting on, teeth brushing, puppies pooping, dinner prep; all while trying to down my SINGULAR daily cup of joe.  Off to the bus stop for Thing 1.  Out the door for bus pick ups for Things 2 & 3.  Puppy on a leash and poop bags in hand for our morning walk.

I came home, and this is where my day truly, truly begins.

[SIGH].  "Whatever shall I do today, puppy?  Ahhh, shit, I need to fill out the kids' after-school chore list."  [While the list is in the process of being filled out - please note henceforth that all italics are my rambling thoughts, while quotes are things I actually said...mostly to the dog:]  I'm gonna need Thing 2 to put away the dishes, but to do that, I've got to put away the dishes and start the next load.  Ugh.  Dog.  Who likes to lick my dishes.  I'm going to put you out.  I put the puppy out, and come back in.  I better open the window so I can hear her out back.  Gross.  This window sill is gross.  Let me...OMG, I have to do the dishes to get to the rag to wipe the window sill.  I'll have it known at this point I walked back to the sink full of dishes and I actually got them done.

I walk back over to the window, intending to wipe down the dirty sill.  "SoCo!  Why are you always wrapped around my hydrangea.  Blargh!"  I walk into the mudroom, intending to find my flip flops to go release her...  Holy shit!  Does anyone ever pick up their shoes back here?  Or vacuum?  Wait!  I vacuum.  Back here.  At least twice a day.  I wonder if Guiness has a record for how many times one person can vacuum their porch in a given week.  I should check into that.  I put on flip flops, open the door to see the dog is no longer tangled.  Guess I'll vacuum then.  I walk to find the vacuum.  Sweet baby Jesus, didn't I just do laundry?  No?  Who knows...better wrangle that up.  I take two baskets downstairs.  These stairs need to be vacuumed.  Vacuumed!  Fuck!  FUCK.  I must find the vacuum, find the vacuum, find...the...vacuum.

I find the vacuum.  I vacuum the mudroom.  And the dining room.  And the kitchen.  [Don't judge, I have a hardwood floor setting].  I let the dog back in.  Who runs to the stairs to chase the cat.  On the stairs is another basket of laundry.  LAUNDRY!  I take this basket downstairs and actually start a load.  I should make a reminder to myself that I ran a load, otherwise we're all going to smell like hobbits.  Hobbits.  What the fuck is that puppy doing?  I find our puppy, sniffing around the dishwasher.  I really need another cup of coffee.  But I shouldn't.  But, I'm going to.  Who needs sleep anyways, and in all honesty it's not like I'll actually sleep.  SIGH.  I turn my beloved Keurig back on.

I should totally blog about this.  I just gotta go grab my laptop.  I attempt to turn it on.  Dead.  Perfect.  Fuck my luck today.  By the time I get back to this, I'm not going to remember if I've put on underwear or not.  I go to find the plug.  There.  Let's let it charge a bit.  It's 9 o'clock!  SHIT, SHIT!  Pick up the dog's food & water from the floor.  Can't have her tiny bladder all full for when I leave for work [I lunch monitor at the kiddies' school 2.5 hrs a day.  Go me.]  Walking away to make that cup of coffee.  I wonder if this is why I love Holden Caufield so much.  I totally get him and the way he just goes on and on and on.  Especially about those phonies.  Haha.  Hmmm.  What WAS I doing?  GODDAMNED IT!  That fucking checklist for the kids.  I wonder how many things I start and stop in a given day.  Hmph, I guess that is why my husband (and possibly everyone else) thinks I'm like those dogs in 'Up'.  Squirrel!  Haha.  Hmmm, where was I?  Oh, right.  Coffee.  I walk to the pot.  This counter is cluttered, and filthy.  No wonder.  Let me pick some of this shit up and put it away.

I take an armload of things downstairs into our workroom/pantry.  I really need to call another company or see someone about remodeling the kitchen.  I can't live like this.  Maybe I could just call that one girl back and continue on that path.  But I should get a second opinion.  AND, I do want to look into those reclaimed barnwood cabinets...need a GC for that.  SIGH.  How does one even know if their GC does good work.  Really, I just want to hire someone who will help me do all the work.  And an electrician and a plumber.  I'm not doing that shit.  But, I think I could rip shit out...Install a tile floor.  Put in some damned cabinets...The counter people do all that jazz themselves.  I really like to be self-sufficient.  I wonder if I'd have to find someone to sub lunches for me so I could actually have a week off to do this shit.  Hmmm.  Self-sufficient...I need to call my dad back.  See if he's babysitting on Tuesday while the hubs sails.  Voicemail.

What is the dog doing now?  HEY!  At least I got the freaking checklists out and put them ON the table...  Walking by the table to check on the dog.  Fuck me.  She's sleeping.  I should probably wake her up and engage her in a game of 'Fetch it up' before she goes in her crate for two hours.  You know, I never picked up that yellow folder that Thing 2 needed for school.  I should probably do that after work, but I'm not sure her bladder can hold out just yet.  Stupid fucking puppy bladders.  Oh well, I'll go after the kids come home before taking her to the vets for her shots this evening; but they'll need to finish up their to-do lists.  THE FUCKING TO-DO LISTS.  Ahhh, shit.  At this point, I sit down and actually fill them out and hang them up.

I look around and see that it is 10am.  My laptop has power.  In the last two hours, I've done a sinkful of dishes, started laundry, vacuumed three rooms in my home.  Tidied up my counters.  Cleaned ALL the window sills in my house.  Brewed what is now a cold cup of coffee.  Took the dog out, brought the dog back in.  And I think that I'll just take a few minutes to myself and actually do this blog.  I know you might have been hoping for a whole day, but frankly, that's too terrifying to share with you just yet.

Shit, I forgot to tell them about the whole finding yourself business...

Yeah, so about that identity crisis.  I already knew I was a bit of an overachiever.  A bit crazy with the attention span of a gnat.  What I've come to fully realize is that I don't really know how to be still.  That I might have ADHD.  That I do tend to undervalue myself and all I do [with that one, I'm going to close out].  Jump forward to the end of what my day will be like...

My husband walks through the door.  I'm putting the finishing touches on our soon to be delicious dinner and setting things on the table.  A kid is pouring drinks for everyone [not THOSE kind of drinks, you jerk, but that WOULD be nice for me...hmmmm].  He kisses me on the neck.  "Hi honey!  What did you do today?  You have a good day?"  [He asks this every day in complete sincerity].

"Hi baby.  Yeah, it was a good day.  I went to work and made dinner..."