A day in the life.

6:15 am - Alarm sounds.  Hubs takes dogs outside and makes coffee.  I roll over and hit snooze. 

6:30 am - Boy Genius enters room and says "mommy, it's time to get up." As if I'm a deadbeat mom who neglects to see her kids off to school {though some mornings I desperately want to be just such mom}. 

6:40 am - I finally roll out of bed, throw on some workout gear and head downstairs to pack lunches. 

7:00 am - Hubs and I begin telling kids "we have to leave in just a few minutes." "Just a few minutes." "Just a few minutes." Kids inhale their nutri-grain waffles, strawberries and sausage.

7:14 am - Off to the bus stop without a minute to spare {literally}.

7:21 am - Kids board school bus and I breathe a sigh of relief - the morning rush is behind me. 

7:30 am - Back home. Make breakfast for myself. Check emails and calendar. Make mental plan for the day {I'm not a list girl though often consider it}.  

7:50 am - Leave for pilates.

9:15 am - Return home sweaty and exhausted. Did I really already eat breakfast? Consider showering straight away but check emails and Internet just in case. Consider blogging but cannot form coherent thoughts.

10:30 am - Realize I've now been staring at my computer for over an hour and have accomplished nothing other than to realize I should not subscribe to twenty invitation-only shopping sites. Promise to look at just one more thing. Make five impulsive Christmas purchases. 

11:00 am - Contractor # 1 arrives. Tells me my entry floors feel spongy. His countenance says this is not a good thing. 

11:30 am - Finally jump in shower, dress, and make bed. 

12:00 am - Consider lunch. Nothing in frig. Begin mental gymnastics to determine how I can squeeze a good lunch into my day. 

12:15 pm - Run by school to coordinate optional field trip to homeless shelter this weekend. 

12:50 pm - Head to eye appointment I have put off until the last possible day. Must get new contacts before my eyes wither before my very own . . . eyes.  Sneak in a quick lunch on my way. 

2:15 pm - I see the world clearly now . . . . 

2:30 pm - Hardwood floor guy arrives and agrees entry floor is indeed quite spongy. Likens my spongy wood floors to cancer - once it's this bad it's not getting any better. Thanks for that. Both my parents died of cancer and now you'll predicting my floor is next?!  Suggests I call foundation repair specialist. 

3:00 pm - Call hubs and inform him we are putting 90 year old home on the market because cancer is killing it too {I'm very emotional around the C word}. He says he cannot understand me through all my blubbering. Didn't you hear me I scream: "the house has cancer." Her reminds me the market is depressed, we love our house, and we should just treat the cancer. So reasonable, the guy.

3:15 pm - Realize kids have been released from school and I'm the parent who must gather them from the bus stop - house cancer notwithstanding. 

3:45 pm - And then begins the flurry of backpacks strewn across the house, lunch boxes thrown haphazardly into the kitchen, pencils sharpened, notebooks open, and the games begin - homework.

4:40 pm - I remind kids we have to finish the spelling homework so we can get to {tennis / gymnastics / golf / piano / violin} the activity du jour on time. 

4:45 pm - Tires squeal back out of the driveway and off to said activity. 

6:30 pm - Tires squeal back into the driveway and I remember that I neglected to get to the grocery shopping today {because there was lots of time for that, right?}. Remember frozen {albeit homemade} meatballs and pat myself on the back for making double batches of meatballs and sauce to save for such a time as this.

7:00 pm - Dinner. Ahh. I'd love the paint the picture of a quiet gathering at our old farm table. That's the image in my head. Reality, however, looks more like this: both kids talking at the same time and one with her mouth full of food. Hubs chastises said child to please, for the 5000th time, keep your mouth closed with chewing. Exactly twenty seconds later she begins to tell her next story with her mouth full of food. Hubs sighs and reminds her for the 5001th time. Boy Genius {mouth properly closed} cannot get a word in edgewise because (1) he doesn't want to talk with his mouth full and (2) he doesn't want to interrupt. As a result, after the first 5 minutes of dinner we hear little from him.

7:30 pm - Dishes piled in kitchen. Kids rushed upstairs for showers. 

8:00 pm - Dishes complete. Hubs reads to kids and I return to my desk which is at this point in the day completed covered with mail, school notes, permission slips, and contractor bids. Work my way through the piles until I can locate my mouse and keyboard. Read a few blogs. Wonder what in the world I'm doing with my own. 

8:35 pm - Tuck in my darling duo and bid them sweet dreams. 

9:00 pm - Hope and pray I have a Grey's Anatomy / Parenthood / Modern Family recorded so I can properly unwind on the couch. Realize 'tis not the case. Refuse to watch anything else on TV. Begin reading my book club selection {only 6 days left}. Doze off somewhere in the first fifty pages.

4:00 am - wake up to sounds of dogs walking around on {spongy, cancer-ridden} hardwood floors. Traipse downstairs to let them outside. Wait at door wondering why in the world I'm up at 4:00 am. 

Sit and wonder where the days, weeks, months are going. 

How can it be December. 

Of 2011? 

Write this blog post as if narrating my day will make it all make sense.  

It doesn't. 

Every day is different. 

But all are full.  

Wrap my head around the idea that I have 30 more things on my {mental} list for today {really must get to the grocery store too - make that 31}. 

Thank God for another day no matter how it's filled. 

What about you? What does your day look like today? Please someone tell me you are headed to the spa, or to get a mani / pedi! I won't be jealous, promise. Just wistful.