A day in the life of...a mom

7:12 am I wake up to the sound of Ellie fussing in her crib. She and Aiden are sharing a room now, so I tiptoe into their room in an effort to get Ellie up before she wakes her brother. Too late. Aiden is awake. Sucking his thumb, staring blankly at the ceiling. I lean over and give him a kiss and say "Good morning" and tell him to stay in bed and read books until the sun wakes up and the moon has gone sleepies (okay, so maybe the sun was already partially awake but I wasn't quite ready for him to get up yet). I get Ellie up and feed her. As I'm trying to coax Jamin out of bed, I hear a rumbling at Aiden's bedroom door. After fidgeting with the doorknob for a few moments, he emerges from his room, Blanket Bun-bun (they're one entity now) in hand, announcing "I wake up! I wake up!" as though he were truly surprised and thrilled that, yes, he did indeed wake up again this morning. He's really quite delighted with this fact, which in turn prompts Jamin to get out of bed rather quickly, else he will soon be pummeled when Aiden forces his way onto our bed and begins to jump and climb all over him.

Once we are showered and diapers are changed (parents and kids respectively), we scoot out the door and pack ourselves into what now seems like the smallest car known to man. I'm taking Jamin to work so I can have the car to run some errands and take the kids to the library. We've just pulled out of the driveway when Jamin notices Aiden in his car seat holding a calculator to his ear and saying "Hi!" Jamin now initiates a little Q and A with his son:

Jamin: Are you talking on the phone?

Aiden: Yeah.

Jamin: Who are you talking to?

Aiden: Gramps talk on phone. (We smile)

Jamin: Yeah? What's he have to say?

Aiden: Gramps...say hi Derek. (We chuckle)

Jamin: You're saying hi to Derek?

Aiden: Yeah. (We chuckle again)

That's great...Aiden's in his first stages of pretend play and Jamin's exploiting it. This reminds me of when my sister and I were little and we'd love to catch Mom when she was really tired and starting to fall asleep and then we'd start asking her all kinds of questions not because we were sincerely interested in what she had to say but because we were hoping for gold-some little nugget of senseless humor from our poor, exhausted mother who no doubt had become that way from exerting all her energy taking care of us.

Now we finally get to Jamin's work and I'm trying to decide what to do for the next 2.5 hours until "bouncing babies" begins at the library. I made the unfortunate mistake of telling Aiden we'd be going to the library when he woke up and now all he has to say from the backseat is "Library. Go library?" 

"No," I say. "Mommy's got to run some errands before we go to the library. I need to go to the grocery store."

"See stegyon?" (this is Aiden's word for "scale"...not sure)

"Yes, we'll get to see the stegyon and the thermometers too," I assure him. (If you haven't yet picked up on this, my son is slightly obsessed with anything that has numbers-calculator, phone, scale, thermometer, clocks)

"Thamoma!" (which being interpreted means "thermometer")

On my way to the grocery store, Aiden's shouting directions from the back seat: "Dat way. No dis way!" A little backseat driver in-the-making. He's also pointing out every truck, bus, tractor, bulldozer and airplane. I make an unexpected turn. "Coffee!" he shouts. Yes, I was taking a shortstop at the Starbucks.

At the drive-thru:

"I'd like a short Americano with whole milk, please," I ask.

"One short Americano with some whole milk in it. Anything else?" comes the faceless voice.

"No thank you."

"Would you like to add another shot of espresso to that?"

"No thanks," I respond, reasoning in my own mind that if I had wanted another shot of espresso I probably would have asked for it. My train of thought continues as I wait behind the car in front of me. "Why are they always trying to upsell you? Hmmm. Maybe he's just being considerate because he thinks the drink is actually better with an extra shot." More thinking as the massive car in front of me idles. "I'll bet she got the extra shot. She's got a huge car that could carry our whole family plus 3 more. She seems like the type to upsell."

I secure my coffee and head back down the road to the grocery store. When I get there I remember this lovely grocery store has special parking for "Parents with children". That would be me, I gloat, as I get one spot closer than all those poor, pathetic shoppers without children. I get out and open the door next to Aiden. I put on his shoes, urging him to please stop kicking his feet as I'm trying to tie his laces, and unstrap him. I think that's why someone invented velcro. As he's slowly working his way out of the car I go around to Ellie. I strap on the Baby Bjorn (wonderful invention...those Swedes really know what they're doing), unstrap Ellie and get her all bundled in. Then I get Aiden and we run/walk to the door. Now it's time to choose a cart. There are oh so many options at this store...a regular cart (with a cupholder...another lovely invention...I tell you one can really get used to this modern convenience), a cart with a car underneath, a small cart with piggyback baskets, etc. Now, I used to go for the car cart because I thought this would surely keep Aiden entertained as I stroll through the store. However, I have learned that this is not the case, not with my son. The novelty of the car wears off in I'd say about 30 seconds flat after which he is saying "Out, out! See, see!" So today I go for the regular cart (with a cupholder for my short Americano with whole milk without the extra shot). Now Aiden can see everything and this makes him very happy. We hit the produce section first and I try to point out all the familiar and unusual produce to keep Aiden's interest until we arrive at the stegyons. We ponder the shape and texture of pineapples, kiwi fruit, plantains, some orange spiky melon I'd never seen before, asparaghus. Aiden is sure to point out the thermometers. Now we're headed to the meat section at which point Aiden begins repeating "Wobster, wobster, wobster" and pointing towards the back of the store. Yes, we will most certainly go look at the lobsters. At the lobsters, Ellie starts to fuss. Her head is cocked completely sideways as she's straining to look at everything around her. I decide to turn her around and let her face outwards to prevent any chronic neck trauma. Once facing outward, she and Aiden bat hands and giggle and she promptly begins to grab everything within reach: my arm, my grocery list, my coffee, Aiden's hands and hair, the cart. Even so this is still much better than the previous since now she and Aiden are able to entertain themselves. I grab all the groceries I can think of and go to the check-out. I'm holding my list and coupons at arms length as high in the air as possible so little stickyfingers can't get to them. I know I look extremely strange but don't really care. Aiden gets a balloon. He'd asked for one before we got into the store. He chooses the blue one and the grocer ties it to his wrist. He's delighted. The grocer tries to make small talk with Aiden but Aiden just stares at him blankly. We go back to the car and repack. I need to drop off the groceries at home before we go to the library. Aiden notices that I'm turning towards our home and senses something is dreadfully wrong. This will not get us to the library. We get home and I unpack the groceries from the car. By this time my coffee, still unfinished, is a little cold, so I decide to take it inside to reheat it. I have the cup between my teeth as I'm opening the door and when I get inside it slips and spills all over the floor. I'm glad I didn't get that extra shot. I wipe it up quickly, grab the hairspray out of one of the grocery bags and give my hair a quick spray and jump back in the car.

Now it's time for the library and I tell Aiden so. He's delighted yet again. As we head down the road Aiden starts spouting out directions...again.

"Dat way," he says, pointing to the right.

"No. That takes us to Daddy's work not to the library."

"Dat way," he repeats rather emphatically.

"No. I need to go straight to get to the library."

He's persistent until he sees a school bus passing us on the other side of the road. And to top that, the school bus has a stop sign on it.  Now Mommy can go whichever way she wants without her toddler's opinion.

We get to the library after a few wrong turns because I'm not paying attention. There's a school bus parked out in front. Aiden's delighted. We park, I feed Ellie as quickly as possible and go through the whole unpacking ritual described earlier. Now Aiden begins to announce all the objects in the library that thrill him so: elevator, clock, globe, stairs, button. Forget the books. Really, those are rather pithy compared to these other things. We attend bouncing babies. Ellie seems to be spitting up at an unusual rate during this thing and of course I forgot a burp cloth so I'm repeatedly wiping her face with a blanket but both the kiddos are enjoying themselves immensely. They sing songs and read books and blow bubbles and pull out all kinds of fun toys for the kids to play with. During song time, Aiden is mesmerized; Ellie is squealing rather loudly. During play time, Aiden is ripping the big plastic balls out of the hands of smaller, unsuspecting children and sitting on them (the balls, not the children). I'm trying to monitor him as well as get some chatting time in with a few friends who have shown up. I'm becoming quite adept at carrying on a conversation while scanning the room, intervening, scolding, comforting, and I can even return to a sentence after having dropped it for up to 15 minutes while getting distracted. Now I know I've lost lots of brain cells at this point in my life, but you have to admit that's a pretty cool skill to be able to put on a resume.

12:00pm Bouncing Babies is finished and I pack the kids up and head to the kids' video section to pick out a few for Aiden. He wants to play with the ABC puzzle which isn't, in fact, even at this library. It's at another branch but he doesn't understand this and there's very little I can do to convince him of this. Never fear, though, because as soon as he sees me pull a Signing Time DVD off the shelf the ABC puzzle is thrown out the window and now he starts listing off the titles of all his favorite Signing Time DVDs. No they don't have "My Day" here...or "Leah's Farm". We finally settle on "Zoo Train" and "Welcome to School". I grab some picture books off the shelf as we're leaving the kids' section. Ellie is asleep finally. We head to the elevator, Aiden points out the clock above the elevator and pushes the button for the door to open. We head to the second floor where my favorite section is: non-fiction. I ask the librarian at the desk where the culture section is. He gives me the number and we head in that direction. Now I know at this point in the day that I have approximately 30 seconds to browse and make my selection. Aiden is on the verge of breaking down; Ellie's still sleeping. I sit Aiden in a chair by the elevator with his DVD and some books and ask him to stay there til I come back. I'm just a few book shelves down. He really starts to break down. Crying. I grab 3 books off the shelf...I'll just have to wait til we get home to decide if they're any good. We head down the elevator, check out our selections and walk outside. I run into an old friend in the parking lot who invites me to her art show coming up in a few weeks. We try to chat as Aiden is running circles around me. I remind him that we always hold hands in the parking lot. My friend and I part with knowing looks (she has a little boy, too). At the car, as I'm trying to get Ellie loaded back into her seat Aiden's blue balloon floats out the door and up up up into the sky. Aiden sees it...tears, pointing, crying...as though all his hopes and dreams were floating into the sky with his precious balloon. I think quickly, grab a bag of fruit snacks out of my bag and say, "Aiden! Fruit snacks! Do you want some fruit snacks?"

(Sniff, sniff) "Fruit snacks?"

"Yep."

"Fruit snacks!" He quickly forgets the dashing of his dreams and settles for some tasty fruit snacks on the ride home.

1:30pm We're finally at home, Aiden and Ellie are asleep. I take a deep breath and smile.