For an odd reason, I’m not too sure why, I thought that I would document my day. I must be in a mood. I’m not sure as to what kind of mood, but a mood non-the-less.
On any given week day, the alarm clock goes off at 5AM. My alarm clock is set a half hour fast as it has been for years. Do I really think I’m tricking myself? I hit the snooze button approximately three times before stumbling to the shower. Then, it’s to the coffee maker to get the party started. I had left yesterday’s half-filled cup by the coffee pot so naturally I grabbed it to pour out.
There was a curvy, large maroonish-brown roach floating in there. Some people like to feel better about having roaches in their home by referring to them as water bugs. Water bugs my Irish arse! Being the resident woman of the house, I’ve squashed my fair share of bugs, big and large, but it rattles me every time…every single time.
Before the channel gets changed to Gracie’s morning programs, it’s my moment to get in a dose of television. You can never go wrong with Way Too Early with Willie Geist.
I mentioned snooze buttons, right? Well, I am actually Gracie’s personal snooze button. Waking up that child is like getting congress to pass a bill. Not easy! Between deciding what vintage number I will put together for the day, I’m in and out, in and out, in and out of Gracie’s room attempting to drag her to the table for breakfast. Oh yeah, did I mention that I make breakfast too? She eats. I put on make-up, get my hairstyle du jour on and then it’s to the closet to choose which heels Ms. Garrity will be struttin’ for the day.
I drop her off, switch off Mommy and turn on Ms. Garrity. I get to work and throw down with my office mates. They are all men, thankfully. My crass humor doesn’t always fan well with the female population. The bell rings and we disperse to teach our classes for the day. Research papers in one class, Catcher in the Rye in another and Lord of the Flies in the other.
At 4PM, I switch off Ms. Garrity and off I go. Today I had every intention of going to the gym. No really, I did. I stopped by D&D to get my iced coffee and was full-speed ready for a workout until I picked up Gracie. I knew right away that going to the gym was a no go.
We get home. Gracie spends 10 minutes throwing cherry blossoms in the air while I am holding my purse, my work computer and all of her art for the past few weeks. It’s windy. My 1940’s vintage floral dress is blowing up past my comfort zone.
Finally, we get into the house. The cat litter stinks. You have no idea how much I really don’t like having cats. Do you want one? How fast can I scoop litter, wash my hands and get Gracie a snack? Ha! You have no idea. What’s on the menu? Cashew chicken. While making dinner, I put together Gracie’s toy vanity, bravely give her some make-up to play with and blast some 60’s garage tunes. I paint her nails and toes. There’s no television on in the afternoons in my house. It’s all about dance and play. We eat dinner, talk about our day and then it’s time to get ready for a bath. She grabs her rubber lizard and it’s off to bath time.
And then we get to now. I get in my computer time and she gets to color, work in her activity books or watch a movie. Tonight, she’s resting next to me as I write this. She’s cranky and tired but fighting to stay awake. Her head is resting on my shoulder, her eyes heavy and her rubber lizard – he’s still in the bathtub.