Shampoo, Rinse, Repeat (An average day) - Revised

My first post to this blog was a description of my average day.  Things have changed a bit since then: we no longer have a nanny, the girls to daycare, I've been attempting to gain some control of my days by waking myself up before the girls do, and the girls have become a little more independent while I've become a little less controlling.  

Alas, my Shampoo, Rinse, Repeat needed a revision.

Alarm at 5:34 a.m. playing Christina Aguilera's Beautiful.  Hope that the song will boost my confidence and bolster me for the day before I even open my eyes.  Wonder if it might work subconsciously.  Turn the alarm off before she finishes singing the first phrase, and will myself out of bed.

Creep downstairs, trying to avoid the creaky spots.  Put on the kettle for tea and roll out the yoga mat.  Stretch out my back in an effort to keep it from going out on me again.  (Once I'm convinced that my back can handle it, return to a morning run a couple of times a week.)

Quietly suggest to the dog that it's time for a walk.  Hope that his yawny stretches, body shaking and ear flapping don't wake the children.   Curse the hinges for squeaking as we head out the door.

Try to relax and enjoy the walk instead of feeling frustrated at his numerous stops to sniff and pee.  Convince myself that this is a time for solitude and quiet reflection instead of another time-consuming chore.

Hope that the children are still in bed when we sneak back into the house.

Finish assembling breakfast necessities, packing snacks, water bottles, permission forms, lunch payments, swimwear, indoor shoes etc. into backpacks. Say good morning to the first little person to peek through the banisters on the stairs.

Sigh.

Give good morning hugs and kisses.

Finally drink some of the tea that I made in a travel mug when I first got up but forgot to take with me while walking the dog.

Brush and style daughters' hair with varying levels of resistance while they eat breakfast.  Silently hope that they don't ask for more toast.

Assist the littlest one and supervise the others with getting dressed, brushing teeth, making beds and putting away clothes. Shower quickly with at least one interruption from a daughter asking about something that daddy has already answered. Get dressed and brush teeth while asking children to put the markers away, get their shoes and backpacks and jackets on and/or stop fighting with one another.

Give 'have a good day' hugs and kisses to children and husband while helping to usher them out the door.

Get in car. Hope for an easy drive.  Listen to radio. Drive to office with a wandering mind. 

Arrive at work. Make more tea and breakfast for self. Work. If workload and timing of office arrival versus time of necessary departure from office permit, dash out at mid-day to quickly run errands or buy groceries. Leave office by 4:40 p.m. in an attempt to beat the worst of the traffic. Hope for an easy drive.  Get home, park the car, walk over to the school to pick up the girls. 

Attempt conversation with my daughters about their days while wrangling them away from the playground.  Coerce them to walk nicely together.  Persuade the littlest that her feet don't hurt and that she isn't too tired to walk the short distance home.  Attempt to discourage children from picking up any more rocks/sticks/leaves/berries.  Inevitably, carry the littlest girl. 

Enter the house.  Say 'yes, you may watch Wild Kratts' while trying to sound reluctant but actually ecstatic for the 30 minutes of (hopefully) relative peace during which I can put away backpacks and shoes, tidy up the kitchen from breakfast, prepare dinner, and possibly sweep the toast crumbs and pet hair off the floor. Feed dog.

Intervene in one or more sibbling squabbles.  Give praise and encouragement for the pictures coloured by at least one daughter who has lost interest in the Wild Kratts and come to the table instead.

Eat dinner. Listen to stories from children, encourage children to eat their meals, ask children to sit properly, clean up spilled milk, and attempt mature conversation with husband.

Bedtime routine.  May or may not involve a bath, depending on day of the week, how dirty they are or what sticky things they have put in their hair. Assist children with getting dressed into pyjamas, brushing teeth, and putting away clothes. Read stories. Sing songs.

Sigh.

Tidy up kitchen. Put away any toys, markers or craft materials left lying around. Move laundry from washer into dryer. Put a load of laundry in the wash. Walk the dog.  Sign permission forms, reading lists and cheques for school programs.

If time and energy permits, attend a yoga class, try to do a self-chosen activity, converse with my husband or watch television while folding laundry.  
Prepare snacks for school.  Organise lunch for tomorrow.

Put laundry into the dryer, and put another load in the wash.

(Ideally, but often left for another day) Put away clothes. Climb into bed. Hope that none of my children pee in their bed tonight. Collapse into sleep.

Repeat.