When I had just one kidlet I really didn’t feel the effects of “witching hour”. I know, right. Smug!
Hold up though. Now I believe. Two kids and an absent husband ensure I feel myself in the trenches every single afternoon.
Also, witching hour is NOT an hour. I would just like to call bullshit right there because is isn’t just one hour…it is many. Well 3 on a good day.
In the spirit of all the morning routine posts popping up everywhere I thought I would share a more
gut-wrenching horrific exciting part of my day.
So please join me for an evening when I am flying solo with a 3 year-old, a 4 month-old and a 14 year-old dog with single child syndrome.
4pm: Yep, that is my starting point. If Leni (4 months) has had a normal sleeps for the day I can put her down for a little cat nap. I enjoy that bliss because if I don’t get the 40 minutes of nap from her I am screwed! Grab a wine, this-is-going-to-be-a-hell-of-a-ride screwed.
4pm is my thinking point. It is when I start to freak that I have nothing for dinner, no bread for sandwiches for the next day and when I start kicking myself for not meal planning yet another week. I will turn on the oven with a plan that something will go inside it some stage soon.
Ari (3 years) has his final play outside until Gypsy (the dog child) has enough and begins to highlight the fact it is time for him to move along by herding him towards the back door or a fence (I keep an eye out for that one, it starts out all laughs but quickly changes).
4:30pm: Gypsy begins howling at the door for her dinner which normally she gets right on 4:30pm because I can’t really deal with all the extra noise. To be honest Gypsy is probably on the best routine out of everyone in the house. After her illness she believes she can get away with anything. And she is correct.
Leni is woken up by all the Gypsy noise on top of the regular Ari noise and because she hasn’t woken up of her on accord she has a bit of banshee about her. We all just have to get along because more sleep will mean less mummy me time later.
While all this is happening I am followed by my small shadow who is slowly trying to break me down for some packet of crap from the pantry. This is also when I remember about the oven!
5pm: Dinner time for Ari and I. Well it was, but I haven’t started. I remember I turned the oven on an hour ago and begin fishing around in the freezer for something easy to feed us while balancing Leni on my hip.
5:20pm: Dinner is served. There is some chance of Ari eating his dinner if we eat together, practically none if I try to get him to eat by himself. I am getting very used to dinning at pensioner hour now.
If Leni hasn’t had her catnap this is the point of no return. There will be zero possibility of being able to put her down so while she screams in my ear I am prying Ari off the back of the couch to go back to the table and eat his dinner.
5:40pm: 5 chips have been eaten from Ari’s plate and he declares dinner complete. Defeated I go run a bath for both the kids. I bath Leni first before Ari is allowed to jump in just in case he has a half time wee on her in the warmth of the water.
6pm: It is milk service all round. Things are quieting down once Leni has a bottle in her mouth.
As soon as Ari has finished his cup of warm milk he starts hunting for more food to make up for his lack of dinner. I give in at yoghurt which I have to spoon feed him as he won’t even attempt to do it himself because
I’m his bitch he loves his mum doing it.
6:30pm: Leni’s bedtime. Being the second child I give her a cuddle and kiss, tuck her in and she goes to sleep. The first-born though…
We begin the bedtime routine with Ari laying flat on the ground and whining which moves into a “pick me uuuupppppp”.
I carry him into the bathroom to brush his teeth because if he walks he heads straight for his bedroom and I will just have to carry him from there.
He has decided he can brush his own teeth. I think he has made this decision simply so he can eat as much toothpaste as possible. Is there a thing with addiction to peppermint? Like pregnant women and steel wool? I hope not. I give his teeth a quick once over at the end and then we head to his bedroom to read a book.
Ari gets to pick out a book. One in ten books is only ever one I enjoy reading. His current pick is an Avengers 3D sticker book… sometimes you just have to pick your battles.
7pm: One, two, three, lights out.
“Mum, I need to go to the toilet”
We head to the toilet where he sits, and sits, and sits, waiting for his current clockwork lights out poo.
Finally everything is done and he is in bed. No day sleep means he is out in 15 minutes but if he has had a day sleep he has been known to carry on past 9pm. If the Mr isn’t home I normally put an end to the carry on by putting him into my bed. I think there is no harm in it and it will save me having to get up to his hollering at stupid-am.
So, who wants to hang out at my place tomorrow arvo?! So. Much. Fun!
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