Just Another Saturday...

When I was cruising about working full-time as a Marketing Officer in local government, Saturdays were my favourite day of the week. My husband always worked, so I got the whole house to myself and would wake up at my leisure before taking in a lazy breakfast, maybe make a cameo at the gym, then get dressed into something snazzy and hit the shops. Maybe meet a friend for lunch. Park myself on the beach in the afternoon to work on my tan. And when husband returned from work we'd go out for dinner, or order in takeaway and watch a couple of DVDs. Yes, Saturdays were a great day to be alive...

Nowadays, things have changed a little. Somewhat. I can't quite put my finger on it, but Saturdays just don't seem to have the same ZING they once did. Maybe you can help me identify why? Here's a little snapshot of Saturday, November 13:


3am.
I awaken, with boobs the size of basketballs and that all-too-familiar tingly sensation that I need to release milk NOW.OR.ELSE. I heave myself out of bed and into Elliott's room. He's awake too, sucking his fist with gusto with his king-sheet sized wrap everywhere but around his body. How has he managed to escape this time? We sit quietly together until he is full and I am empty. I wrap him again like a caterpillar in a cocoon. I climb back into bed.

5.50am.
"DAAAAAADDY!" Fern is awake.
"DAAAAAADDY UPPPPP!" And she's not going back to sleep.

Great. Neither are we.

6.45am.
I've injected a double-shot-flat-white into my veins and am considering another.
But I have a baby to feed.
And I have to throw on my gym clothes for my Saturday slog-out and get out of the house by 7.20 to make it to my class on time.

7.30am.
I leave the house.

7.45am.
Spin class commences and I make it with about 3 milliseconds to spare.

8.30am.
Depart Spin class, skipping cool-down. Husband needs to leave for work in 2 mins.

8.35am.
Arrive home. Husband greets me in the driveway. Says both children are asleep. I eye him skeptically, give him the benefit of the doubt and excitedly make plans to get some jobs done.

8.36am.
Husband leaves for work.

8.37am.
Hear Fern screaming out from the second story to get up.
Great.

8.40am.
Bring Fern outside to 'help' me wash the car. Maybe I can still get one job done?!

8.42am.
Rescue Fern from running down the road.

8.43am.
Rescue Fern from running down the road again.

8.44am.
Pen Fern inside garden gate to sit watching quietly, while I wash car.

8.45-9.00
Wash car -- treating neighbours to tranquil symphony of daughter screaming her lungs out to be let outside gate.

9.01.
Carry Fern back inside and deposit her into bed with orders to go to sleep.

9.02 - 10am.
Shower. Dress. Tidy up house. Put washing on. Get Elliott up to change/feed/burp/cuddle him.

10.15am.
Daughter sobbing uncontrollably. Calmly get her out of bed. Put her in front of the television with a bottle.

10.20am.
Daughter still screaming.

10.25am.
Ring husband to moan down phone about daughter.

10.30am.
Put baby in rocker on kitchen bench (so safe, I know) and commence making blueberry pancakes in desperate attempt to placate daughter.

11am.
Return baby to bed.

11.05am.
Sit outside eating pancakes with daughter, who has finally stopped screaming.

11.20-12.30pm.
Rub sunscreen onto daughter. Hang washing out. Help daughter onto bike. Help daughter off bike. Fill up water play-table. Offer pieces of chalk to daughter to draw onto chalkboard. Scrub chalk off outdoor seating. Phone rings inside. Run in to grab it. It's RSPCA. Do I want to support animal welfare by buying 2011 calendar? Rescued from having to reply by daughter screaming again.

12.35pm.
Baby wakes up. Change nappy. Feed. Burp. Cuddle.

1.30pm.
Lift baby off play-rug. Discover a huge a blow-out. Remove snap suit with tweezers. Change baby. Soak clothes in Napisan.

1.40pm.
Offer baby milk top-up. Sit baby on lap for burping.

1.45pm.
Man-sized bottom burp from baby. Check the back of suit. Coast is clear.

1.50pm.
Lift baby up to place into bed. Realise with horror baby has blown-out from the bottom of his suit this time. Straight onto my dress. And soaked through onto my leg.

1.50-2.00pm
Change and select 3rd outfit for the day for baby. Soak his clothes  in second bucket of Napisan.

2.00-2.10pm
Shower and change my own outfit. Soak MY clothes in bucket of Napisan. Add 'Napisan' to shopping list.

2.15pm.
Return baby to bed. Put Fern back to bed.

2.15-2.30pm
Make self a sandwich. Sit down to eat it.

2.31pm.
Fern yelling to get up.

2.40pm
Get Fern back up.

2.55pm
Baby wakes up.

2.55-4.30pm
Sit on couch nursing Elliott, watching daughter throw wooden blocks around living room. The phone rings. It's my brother in law. He's hurt his back. Can't get out of bed. And his wife is away for the weekend.

4.40pm.
Bundle children into car and drive over to brother-in-laws. Leave Elliott in bedroom with brother-in-law while I escort daughter into living room to find some blocks.

4.45pm.
Brother-in-law calls out to me. It's Elliott. He's blown out. Again.

4.46pm.
Realise I've forgotten change of outfit for Elliott. Ring husband.

5pm.
Husband arrives. Change baby. Realise it's dinner time for daughter. Raid brother-in-law's fridge and come up with highly nutritious offering of 2-minute noodles, bacon and grated cheese.

5.30pm.
Sit with daughter building lego whilst husband goes out to get takeaway Indian for brother-in-law.

7pm. 
Arrive home. Bath baby. Dress baby. Feed baby. Put baby to bed. Kiss daughter goodnight.

7.25pm.
Get grizzling baby back up for a top-up feed.

7.30pm.
Shower. Clean up living room. Try not to strangle husband when he asks whether he can race his bike on Sunday morning.

8pm.
Prepare nappies, wipes etc in preparation for night-feed and drag body into bed. Get 2.5 pages into Eat Pray Love before all memory disappears........



Yup, just another Saturday!

hmmmm. Reading back over my day, I cannot for the life of me work out whereth the problem lieth.... can you?!?