It’s 9pm. Your husband’s still working. You finally sit down to breathe after putting your kids to bed. 9pm – this is actually early for you. A very newly found routine with your children to get them in bed by 7:45pm. The routine never really goes exactly as planned but it’s better than before, it’s better than no routine at all. (Cue the arguing with your 4 year old during teeth brushing – he doesn’t want to brush with any toothpaste tonight. He also doesn’t want to pee before bed (do you really want to wash those sheets one more time this week? Why is washing bedding a whole entire day process?). Reading 2 books while your boys kick each other in the bed because your youngest won’t scoot over to “his pillow,” then projecting the flashlight onto the ceiling to do puppet fingers before kissing them goodnight. You sit there until they fall asleep with a dead phone, in the darkness. Are they asleep? One pops up with the side eye to make sure you’re still sitting on the bed. Shhh. You sneak out quieter than Santa on Xmas, tip toeing every inch until you’re out of the room and in the clear…to breathe. You did it. They’re asleep (for now).

You go to sit down on the couch. Maybe you’ll binge watch Handsmaids Tales tonight. Only if Nick and June continue their love affair. Wait…there are 25 dishes in the sink from dinner. Shit. You can’t go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink. Bugs will get into the house. You don’t do bugs. Scrub a dub dub. Sink is spotless. Start the dishwasher and go sit down on the couch. Get comfy. Shit. Birth control – need to take that too. Gulp.

You realize need to shower. You may or may not smell – maybe from dinner. Maybe from the day. Who knows. You just know you need to shower.

Rewind to morning. You’ve been up since what feels like the crack of dawn when you’re kids came stampeding into your bed like a herd of elephants running away from prey. Oh wait, it was the crack of dawn.

You snooze your alarm because you want to lay there but your kids are yelling at you to get up. They’re hungry. Guess you’re getting up.

Breakfast. One picky eater, one becoming a picker eater. Options are so limited. You make them all options in hopes one will be devoured.

Boys – let’s get dressed. Argument – one doesn’t like any of their shoes. One doesn’t want to brush their hair today. Fighting over a lego toy car when there are 50 toy cars in the playroom. You’re stressed and yelling at 8am to share toys. Boys – you tell them go sit down or play while you make lunches.

Again, one picky eater. What the F* do you pack today? You’re on the struggle bus, this morning. Maybe every morning. Not sure, the days turn into blurs.

Lunches made, waters filled.

Boys – let’s go!

Off to school. You look 20% presentable. Gym clothes even though you have no intention of working out today. Hair in a messy bun.

You walk each into their preschool classrooms. No car pool line yet, not old enough. You kiss them goodbye and tell them to have an amazing day, you’ll see them later. On your way out. you pray that there are no sickos that shoot up your child’s school today. You hope that no little kid brings a weapon to school, we’ve all seen it on the news too many a times. You think how sick of a world it is that you’re worrying about the safety of your babies (literal babies).

You’re back home. (Or in an office). You start your work day. Shit, you need caffeine. You make your daily cup of coffee.

Start work. A stressful work day. Clients are maybe happy, maybe not. The focus is always on the fires you need to put out. Just like the bad reviews online. You only notice those.

Sleepiness sets in. 2nd cup of coffee time.

Meetings. Calls. You gaze at the clock.

Whew. You made it (through the first part of your work day). The 2nd half starts now.

Pick up the kids from school. It’s sweltering out. Why did you wear those tight black leggings in this heat?

Doesn’t matter now. Home.

The kids sprint towards the snack cabinet. Could only mean one thing. Yep, didn’t eat their lunch. You try to school them on why eating their food before snacks is important.

But you give in. Snack time.

Now, practicing writing (or homework). Holy frustrating – your child is stubborn. They don’t like being told they’re doing anything wrong and your patience is thin.

Dinner. Do you really have to think about food again? What are you making them? 2 different dinners because, picky.

Early bath time – you got this. Stick to the “routine” – one has eczema but you feel so bad not letting him play with the bath bubbles. Bubbles it is. Then cream, a lot of it. He cries, it burns his poor open skin but no creams or meds have helped thus far.

Pajamas. They want to wear the Batman pjs. Shit, those are in the wash. Sorry boys!

A work email. Another fire. You have to respond.

Your kids tell you to get off of your phone.

You put it down for a second but then someone’s irrelevant life catches your eye on Instagram. You gaze, losing track of time.

Movie or playtime boys!

Time for bed. Routine.

Husband comes home. The house is spotless. Work clothes washed. No idea that anything went down in the house today.

It’s tomorrow. Repeat.

-dedicated to the two littlest loves of my life. Mommy loves you more than all the stars in the sky ♥️

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