Bolt awake and realize it’s 7 AM. It’s 7 AM!!! Woo hoo, what a great start to the day!! Oh, it’s 7 AM? Peanut never sleeps this late?
Check on Peanut, creep ever so quietly into his room, see that he’s sleeping. Feel relief, today is going to be a great day with Peanut so well-rested. Close the door on the way out and accidentally let go of knob too early, causing the latch to make a noise.
Peanut hears the latch, wakes up crying. Damn. Go in and get him out of his crib, realize his diaper leaked and he, along with his sheet, blanket, pillow, and crib bumper is wet.
Change his diaper, the sheets on his bed, and start first load of laundry.
See that it’s 7:30 and time to get Shel up for the day. On the way, see something on the carpet, “must be a raisin,” I think. Pick it up and to my horror realize it’s a dingleberry from my dog’s ass. Gag. Almost puke. Praise the Lord Peanut didn’t find the raisin look alike first. Curse the dogs.
Begin to feed Shel, start working on the checkbook. Realize we went a little crazy with our money during the month of June.
Peanut demands breakfast. Try to make toast one-handed while feeding Shel. Feel smug and accomplished as I serve Peanut his breakfast without spilling or burning anything. Pour him a cup of milk, accidentally spill it all over when I don’t get the lid put on correctly.
Clean up mess, start to clean up breakfast dishes. Get distracted when I find two more receipts to put in the checkbook. Realize we went really crazy with our money in June.
Attempt to put Shel down for her morning nap after she yawns and acts sleepy. Play binky bitch for twenty minutes until she falls asleep.
Start second load of laundry after trying to locate all the clothes Peanut has hidden throughout the house when I left the laundry basket in his reach.
Hear someone pounding on the front door. Shel awakens, crying. Curse Fed Ex man for POUNDING on the door when the sign covering the doorbell clearly says “please knock” not “POUND AS LOUDLY AS YOU CAN AND WAKE UP MY BABY, JACKASS.”
Open the door, realize I’m wearing my breastmilk soaked nursing gown, with one of my boobs hanging out of the slits. Quickly cover myself as best as I can, turn a lovely shade of crimson, sign for the package, close the door as quickly as I can and pray that he didn’t see my boob peeking out to say hello. Run to comfort Shel, and finally get her back to sleep after yet another round of binky bitch.
Dogs are starving. Open the pantry door and realize we’re out of dogfood. Put dogs outside to distract them while I think about what I could feed them instead. Toast, leftovers, the whole box of dog treats? Realize I’m going to have to make a run to the grocery store soon. Start a grocery list.
Make a marinade for the meat we’ll grill for dinner. Open meat package and realize the meat is spoiled. Gag. Almost puke. Look at the date, a week expired. Shit. Add flank steak to grocery list.
Turn around and see Peanut wielding a butter knife I’d left too close to the edge of the counter. Scream for Peanut to put down the knife. Eventually, wrestle knife from his fingers. Praise the Lord I don’t need to add band-aids and replacement fingers to my grocery list.
Look at the clock and see that it’s only 9 AM.