A Week in the Life

Some time ago, my friend Renee posted a blog entry detailing her family's day-to-day activities. I thought it was a cool idea, so I'm going to steal it. (I don't think Renee will mind, but if she does, it might seem like a double insult that she's watching my kids as I blog!)

I hope it will be interesting to you, but, somewhat selfishly, I'm also writing it for my future self. One of my perhaps unusual obsessions is keeping track of my daily life. For instance, I write down what we eat for dinner every night on a calendar. Not just any calendar, but the NM Breastfeeding Task Force calendar, on which I've made an appearance for the last four years. Why does this type of documentation seem interesting or worthy to me? I think I started because I thought I might want to look back for inspiration, and I also thought it might be less appealing to go out for dinner excessively, if I knew I would have to fess up to the calendar.

The truth is, although I don't look back for menu planning ideas (I have another system in place, of course) I can't imagine throwing the calendars away. I like the idea that I can peruse the list of our dinners from the last four years, any time I want. It feels inexplicably comforting to me. I'm not sure what exactly is the root of this behavior, but for the same reason, I have a hard time throwing away my planners from previous years. Eventually I do, but sometimes I regret it. Right now, for instance, I would love to look back and see exactly how I spent my time during, say, my freshman year of college. I have memories, of course, but the day-by-day minutia is lost.

So. The rest of this entry will detail our "regular" days, but please keep in mind that all is subject to change, and usually does. Someone gets sick, a visitor arrives, Jon has an unexpected day off, or we get an offer we can't refuse. But these are the nuts and bolts of our week.


Let's start with Monday. A regular Monday, unlike today, which is irregular. Usually, Renee's kids, Grady (5.5) and Ainslie (2.5) would be here for three hours, 9:30ish-12:30ish. If Jon is home, he'll do some Tae Kwon Do with Grady and Zephyr. Their other favorite activities are archery, playing games like Memory, Checkers, and The Hungry Caterpillar Game, and shooting hoops. (I'll have to write another entry sometime about playing games with these guys. It's not as idyllic as it may sound.) Ainslie and Jubilee like to strip naked and amble about ("We're naked snow monsters!" they cry,) picking up this and that, pretending to cook, and spreading blankets on the floor. Last week they had a great time taking a bath together. I serve them all lunch at 11, and then transport them all to a nearby park, via bike. Sometimes, our friend Marias will meet us there with her kids, Hayden and Clara, and the party really starts. Renee picks the kids up there, and sitting in the sun, talking with my friends while my kids play with theirs, my heart aches with gratitude for this stage of my life. I never knew I'd have it so good.

When we go home, Zephyr is often a little grumpy, and I always think of my mother telling me I needed to learn how to entertain myself. As a kid, I was constantly begging for this or that friend to come over. Luckily, Zephyr is better at entertaining himself than I was, and usually gets busy with legos, or I'll read to them both. Jubilee often still naps, and Zephyr will on occasion. I start dinner in the late afternoon. Technically, we don't have any other "regular" Monday items of business, but once a month I have a PFLAG board meeting, which sometimes falls on a Monday (like tonight.)

Tuesday...ah, Tuesday. For years, I awaken cheerful on Tuesdays, knowing it's going to be a great day. Years ago, when we first moved back to this town, I started looking for a "Mommy Group;" someplace I could go where people would understand if I wanted to talk about diapers and breastfeeding and all other mundane-but-marvelous baby things. I quickly realized that I wasn't going to walk into it, so I would create it. Zephyr was four months old when I announced at an Attachment Parenting meeting that I would be at such-and-such park on such-and-such day, if anyone wanted to meet me. And so it began. Jessica, another one of the "founding mothers," still attends, but mostly we've seen a lot of come and go. People move away or move on, drop out for a few months, then come back. All are welcome, but not everyone who "tries it on" decides it's a good fit, and that's okay. That first year or so, we'd sit in a circle, nursing and bouncing our babies. Now, we're chasing their younger siblings, but still manage to have much needed, if not sustained, adult interaction.

Much to my dismay, the course the university offered me this semester meets on Tuesday mornings. So, Jon loads up the stroller and walks to the park. Sigh. I arrive about an hour later and we change shifts. Luckily for Jon, at no other point in Playgroup history have we had so many male attendees. Glen, Josh, Robert, Pat, and Tom have all become regulars. The group has had times of sparse attendance, but right now we're thriving. Besides the guys, I can expect to see Renee, Marias, Jessica, Laurel, Sandra, Jana, Courtney, Heather, Monika, and Cari, plus any number of occasional drop-ins. Marias and I live close enough to walk home together, and we usually shut the place down and arrive home just in time for Zephyr to jump into his Tae Kwon Do uniform and drive to his 3 pm class.

The class lasts 30 minutes, but it wouldn't feel complete for Zephyr without a visit to the practice room, where the wild rumpus continues. They kick targets, punch bags, and engage in all types of rough-and-tumble play, some of which shows little resemblance to Tae Kwon Do. We try to keep the commotion within reasonable limits, and so far, so good. That is to say, the instructors still smile when they see us come in.

Jubilee likes the practice room, too.

Right now, that's it for Tuesdays. For several semesters Tuesday nights were my teaching nights, and it feels sort of like a gift of time to be available during those hours now. I'd try to describe a typical evening in our house, but there is something...mysterious...that takes place. Around 4:30, we'll figure out that all we have left to do is eat dinner, maybe read a few books, give the kids a bath, brush their teeth, and, easy as that, everyone should be in bed at a reasonable hour. Then, all of a sudden, it's 10 pm, Jon and I are exhausted, Jubilee is refusing to put pajamas on, and Zephyr is riding his bike up and down the hall. We'll brush their teeth, thinking it's a step in the right direction, but then they'll say they need a bedtime snack. Maddening.

What exactly happened to all those hours, anyway? We don't watch TV, so that's not it. It could be any or all of the following: reading, playing games, folding laundry, cleaning the kitchen, flying paper airplanes, painting, sparring, nursing, playing basketball, talking on the phone, crying, dressing up, dancing, legos building, puzzle making, or searching for obscure items on youtube (ie extreme unicycling, slam dunk contests, NASCAR pit stops.)


Wednesday mornings the kids and I leave bright and early to run a few errands on our way to Kindermusik, which starts at 9 am. We usually hit a bank or two on our way there, and, possibly, the co-op for groceries. I make sure Zephyr gets to his class, then accompany Jubilee to hers. After 30 minutes of singing, dancing, instrument shaking, and baby lifting, Jubilee and I join Zephyr for the family portion of his class, then it's out to the playground. The kids linger as long as possible, which is generally fine with me, although I would enjoy it more if conversation flowed more easily between the other parents and me. Maybe in another month or so. Last semester, Jon took the kids to Kindermusik, since I was teaching Wednesday mornings, so they're all fairly new faces to me.

From there, we usually go to the Farmer's Market. There isn't a lot of produce available right now, and very few vendors are available for the Wednesday market, anyway, but we like to show our support, so we get what we can. We always manage to find our way into the kids' room at the local used book store, where we read about a hundred books. And, I guess that's all that's on the Wednesday agenda, which seems hard to believe. It doesn't feel like we have so much freetime. We go home, eat lunch, hang around in the backyard. Once a month we have a potluck with friends. The rest disappears into the aforementioned timewarp.

Hugging is always involved.

Thursdays are our busiest days. We hit the ground running, trying to get the kids breakfasted, dressed, and over to Renee's by 9:30 or so. Then, it's three hours of bliss, while I relax knowing my kids are well cared for and happily playing with their friends (the occasional disagreement notwithstanding.) We've been doing this for a few months now, and at first, I was too overwhelmed with all the possibilities to know what to do with all that time. I decided on an hour for myself, an hour on the house, and an hour on my job. If a sudden passion overtakes me, I'll throw all caution to the wind, perhaps choosing to blow the entire three hours gutting, cleaning, and organizing a closet. Follow your bliss, right?

Grady and Zephyr never want to part ways, but Thursdays are easier than other days, because their next visit is never too far off. There's TKD at 3, Pistoleros at 4:30, and, the first Thursday of the month, La Leche League meetings at 6:30. The third Thursday of the month, my book club meets at 7. Zephyr falls asleep almost before his head hits the pillow on Thursdays.

Fridays are somewhat open. The first Friday we have La Leche League meetings at 10, but that's the only regularly scheduled event. (Jubilee usually goes with me, and Zephyr usually goes to work with Jon, mostly in hopes of securing a doughnut. He's rarely disappointed.) Jon tries to work a minimal number of hours on Friday, so occasionally I meet some friends for a ladies' lunch out, which I relish. Also, Jon and I take turns getting massages on Friday afternoons. This week it's my turn. I'm not sure what's more satisfying, getting the massage, or watching Jon float through the door in post-massage ecstasy. Zephyr's TKD school has a varying schedule on Fridays, and once a month it's something for Zephyr's age group. This week, it's sparring for ages 3-6, then demonstration team practice. I think Zephyr's hoping to make the jump kick squad.


Saturdays have been all about the Farmer's Market for Jon and me since the beginning of our marriage. We love walking there together most of all, having great conversations about whatever comes to mind. In the summer, when it's too hot to walk, we bike, and we love that, too. Once there, the money freely flows from our hands to the hands of local farmers, an act we savor in no small way. We chat with like-minded friends and catch up with our favorite vendors. We value the Farmer's Market for so many reasons, and we love supporting it.

But, wait! There's been a break in tradition. For the last several months, after a sturdy breakfast, Jon helps me load the kids into the double stroller, then kisses us goodbye as we head to the market. It was a tough decision, but Jon was often frustrated as our market visits stretched into the early afternoon. He always has several big projects going on, and Saturday mornings he was raring to get to work on them. So I take the kids to the market, make our purchases, take the kids to two storytimes, scour the shelves at the used bookstore for good finds, and enjoy the company of friends. Renee and kids are regulars, as well as Conor, Genna, and dozens of other familiar faces, adult and child.

I try to run the clock, enjoying the treats and the company as long as possible, allowing Jon maximum productive time. What does he do with it? I never ask. It's his business. But mostly, it seems like it falls into one of the following categories: gardening, greening, or home improvement. (I feel like I should mention that the fourth Saturday of every month, I meet some friends for breakfast at 7 am. It's great. I get home two hours later, and it's like I never even left- everyone's still in pj's, looking rumpled and needing Mommy.)


The rest of the weekend is usually wonderfully unscheduled. Sunday morning, Jon walks the kids to an elementary school playground where they play basketball, soccer, and have a picnic, giving me another much coveted block of home-alone time. Besides that, we might go to a basketball game, have friends over for dinner, enjoy a spontaneous visit with Carrie and Char, or bake a cake and host a gamenight, but we're most likely to lay low, staying close to home, taking turns getting things done and hanging out with the kids.



So, that sums up our week. Next entry: "From Pad Thai to Spanikopita: Four Years of Dinners."


Just kidding.