I'm now a working mom of 2. And in case you were wondering, this is what I do all day....
7am: Wake up to baby warmly snuggled against me in bed suckling away.
7:15am: Go downstairs with satiated baby. Wake up big brother and haggle with him about going to the potty.
7:16am: Bring book to toddler sitting on potty. Remind him that we need to get going.
7:17am: Diaper and dress baby. Lay baby in crib or on floor to play.
7:20am: Urge toddler to please go potty. "But mommy, I have to poopy." (Said in slightly whiny voice). Internally sigh because it is impossible to rush a toddler learning to go poopy on the potty.
7:22am: Coo at baby.
7:25am: Gather the pumped breast milk bottles and put them in baby's diaper bag for "school"
7:27am: Coo at baby. Melt at his smile.
7:30am: Run into the bathroom clapping hands (and often signing) because I hear toddler excitedly proclaiming "Mommy, I poopied" followed shortly thereafter by "Mommy, can I have my Twix now." [Don't judge. At least I haven't cleaned poop out of superhero underpants in a few days.]
7:32am: Finish cleaning up after said poopy and convince toddler to get dressed because the Twix cannot be eaten unless he is dressed.
7:35am: Get toddler string cheese, milk and whatever else he insists upon having in the car ride to school.
7:36am: Get baby in car seat and give lots of kisses.
7:37am: Ask toddler for hug and kiss. Denied.
7:38am: Kiss husband and give him kiss. Yell after toddler that "I love you bubba". Hear an "I love you too momma" in return. Heart melting again.
7:40am: Realize diaper bag with all important liquid gold breast milk is sitting on counter. Run outside in bathrobe to catch husband before he leaves.
7:42am: Put some oatmeal on the stove and run upstairs to shower, do makeup and clothe annoying postpartum body and the extra 20ish pounds its holding on to. Grumble.
8:15am: Eat oatmeal and stare at the dog. Shit, did we feed the dog?
8:17am: Feed dog. Perhaps for the 2nd time of the day.
8:20am: Pack pump bag: 4 bottles and tops, check. Ice pack, check. Strapless pumping bra, check. Breast shields and connectors, check. Little white pieces that constantly get lost, check.
8:25am: Pack some food for work. Must eat enough food to make milk for baby. But must reduce caloric intake to lose weight. Conundrum.
8:30am: Set alarm and schlep to car feeling like the bag lady with my pump bag, purse, food bag and work computer bag. I must be losing pounds by the sheer weight of all this damn baggage.
8:55am: Arrive at parking deck. Why the f*ck does it take 25 minutes to drive 6 miles? Did I mention I don't take the highway? This whole "city living" thing is starting to feel like a joke. Think that moving to the suburbs will not be that bad after all. Oh yea, we're probably moving the suburbs.
9:00am: Find parking space and park.
9:05am: Arrive in office.
9:06am-10am: Lawyer/chat with work friends/drink more coffee.
10am: Pump #1 of the day: Unlock the "wellness room" and immediately kick off shoes. Take off top and bra. Put on strapless nursing bra and attach myself to pump. Sit and think about how strange this whole pumping in the office thing is. Remind myself that it's a means to an end. Pray no one somehow accidentally walks in to the locked room. 15 minutes later I detach from pump and check out my bounty. Usually a high output in the morning so I'm happy. Yes, my daily mood is highly correlated to the amount of breast milk I do or do not pump. Bizarre, yes.
10:30-12pm: Lawyer. Eat snacks because nursing makes you crazy hungry. Oh and I'm also chugging water this whole time. And drinking coffee and mother's milk tea.
1pm: Pump #2 of the day. Almost fall asleep hooked up to my milking machine. Look at pictures of baby to stay awake. Get watery eyes thinking about baby. Miss baby. Damnit.
4pm: Pump #3 of the day. I can only last 10 minutes attached to the machine by this point. I hate the sound. Anyone who has pumped breastmilk knows what I'm talking about. The rhythmic murmur is obnoxious.
5pm: Shut down computer and walk to car.
5:15pm: Arrive at daycare and get baby. Nurse baby at school. Or at least attempt to. He'd rather sip on milk for a second and then stop to smile at me, rinse and repeat. He doesn't really get any nutrients at this "feeding" but at least we're bonding. We ARE bonding.
5:30pm: Go pick up big brother off the playground. Shocked by the smell of a sweaty boy. When did my first baby become a little boy???? Ain't no baby left in that one.
5:35pm: Navigate school parking deck with toddler trying to wiggle out of my grip and heavy baby in carrier. (Again, must be losing weight, right?) Head home.
6:10pm: Arrive home. I hate traffic. At least the toddler and I talked the whole ride home about yucky traffic and what he did that day.
6:15pm: "Mom can I watch Octonauts now?"
6:16pm: Turn Octonauts on TV. Don't judge. Pray baby keeps sleeping in car seat long enough for me to start dinner.
6:20pm: Baby cries. Pick up baby and nurse. Somehow throw something together for dinner.
6:46pm: "One more tv show mom". "No." Tears. Tantrum. Outburst by toddler. At least I have perfected my powers of ignoring him. Win for mom.
6:50pm: Husband is home. Toddler may or may not still be screaming.
6:55pm: Sit down to eat with baby in bouncy seat on table. Constantly reinsert paci after he spits it out over and over again. Have fragmented conversation with husband as toddler requests more food and chit chats with us.
7:20pm: Finish eating and start bath for toddler and separate bath for baby. Daddy bathes toddler. I bathe baby. (Disclaimer: This part of the evening only happens about every 3rd night. Bath time stresses me out man. So on non-bath nights we're all in the boys' room playing.)
7:45pm: Round two of "The Toddler Pooping Diaries". Followed by getting the boys in their PJs.
8:00pm: Nurse baby and put him to sleep. Hold him longer than I should because I realize I haven't spent any quality time with him all day. Feel the mommy guilt unleash. Kiss baby.
8:30pm: Change into workout clothes. Go downstairs and prep bottles for the next day. Pour 4.5 ounces of milk in 3 bottles. Date them all. Put them all in ziplock bag. Wash bottles from today. Wash pump parts from today. Do dishes. (Husband usually helps with this part).
8:45pm: Workout while swearing at Tracy Anderson and her ridiculously hard DVDs. Surely I'll lose the weight. Must lose the weight. (Disclaimer: I'm only on day 4 of the 90 day program...check back to see if this lasts.)
9:45pm: Thank God the DVD is over. Shower.
10:00pm: In bed or talking to husband. Wonder what I've done all day. Think about the laundry that needs to be folded but decide it can wait another day. Think about the mail I need to open, but of course do not open. Wonder if I fed the cat. End up reading blogs instead of doing anything productive.
12:00am: Baby crying. Nurse sweet baby. At least he smiles at me and goes right back to sleep.
2:00am/3am: Baby crying. Nurse half asleep.
4:00am/5am: Baby crying. Bring him in bed and sleep while letting him nurse on and off until it's time to get up.
6am: Alarm clock rings. Snooze until 7.