What do you DO all day?
I, as a full-time parent, do the same things you do. It just takes me a thousand times longer.
This is an example of Anna and I trying to get out the door to run errands.
She is just waking up from her nap. And of course all our outings are based on her nap schedule.
I walk in.
We have to play or kiss through the bars of her crib because we haven't seen each other in 1.5 hours and because it's fun ev-er-y-time!!!!
She instructs me to open the window, as is our tradition (Standing up, pointing at window, "dat!"). "You are my sunshine....." I sing as I do this, as is required.
I lay her on her changing table to take of her jammies and change her diaper.
She understands this as "naked time" and wiggles and wiggles till I give in and plop her on the floor in her birthday suit.
I then hand her her dirty diaper, carefully rolled up, because SHE wants to be the one to throw it away.
Knowing what follows, I distract her from throwing other things in the diaper container as well. (Taking whatever she grabs away, over and over, while I dart back and forth to the closet looking for an outfit.)
I finally grab her after choosing an outfit. She signs for "milk". I sigh and give in, knowing she didn't eat much breakfast and that we'll be out for a while before lunch.
I wrestle her to the ground to get a diaper on her.
I WIN (because I'm NOT nursing her bare bottomed. We all KNOW where that would go).
I sit for five minutes while she nurses and I run through my mind everything else I need to do before I can walk out the door.
She gets down. I go to the kitchen to pack a little baggie of food, again mindful that we'll be gone for a while close to lunch. (One of my many genius ideas I thought of while we sat on the couch nursing.)
Meanwhile she wanders away, still clad in only a diaper.
I notice how gnarley her fingernails are as she hands me something she pulled out of the kitchen cabinet. "Can I take her out with nails that bad?" "What if someone sees them?" "It'll just take a few more minutes."
Nah..... (Fingernails stay nasty)
I fetch her outfit and socks and shoes. I found an unopened toy from her birthday and unwrapped it (to keep her captivated while I dressed her).
(It worked, of course.)
She's now fully dressed and wandering off down the hall.
I fetch my socks and shoes, thanking myself again for showering and dressing during her morning nap so I can get out so..... quickly? later on.
Meanwhile, I noticed the bathroom door is open and she's nowhere in sight. I find her unraveling the toilet paper and reaching for the plunger.
"Ewww Ewww!" I tell her for the thousandth time while carting her out of the bathroom and shutting the door.
Finally I manage to get my socks and shoes on while she messes with something else.
I wrestle her into her coat.
Grab her bag of food and water cup.
Manage to find BOTH my car keys and cell phone and stick them in my coat pocket.
I and THRILLED with myself for actually remembering the item I need to return this trip and including it in our load of things to take.
I pick her up and carry her down the stairs, into the garage, and shove her into her car seat (still facing backwards for safety - hard to wrestle her into.)
Manage to hold her down and yet get all the straps in the right places (putting Cirque Du Soleil to shame with my contortions) while looking around for a toy to hand her when done to keep her happy with being strapped in.
Pick up all our other supplies and shove them in the other door.
Huff around the side of the car and into the driver's seat.
Sigh with relief. Sigh with frustration when I see how late it is.
Turn on the car and go.
Now, I imagine most of you (besides Aunt Emily) needed to run an errand. You grabbed your purse and coat and left.
Was it fun? How nice for you.
And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is what we do all day (and why we never accomplish anything).