No, rewind. I already did that at 2:30 am. For some reason you awoke early last night and just woudn’t settle again. Your dad walked you around and put you back to bed. More upset noises. So you had some boobie and finally went back down at 3:30 am.
So yes, when I woke up at 7:00 am and your dad brought you in for your morning boobie, I was a bit tired.
8:00 am breakfast. You got sick of yours (toast with avocado) and decided you were much more into my breakfast (muesli with yoghurt).
8:20 am I gave up and just gave you mine on a big metal spoon (because you’ve decided, that obviously those plastic ones are just for babies. I mean, no-one else in the house has to use the red plastic spoons, why should you? [yes – i can read your thoughts]).
8:35 am. you decided you hadn’t finished eating breakfast and demanded more oats and yoghurt on the big spoon, whilst simultaneously discovering the percussive characteristics of a metal spoon and a highchair. End result: yoghurt and oats splattering widly in a big arc through the kitchen. Should I have removed the spoon at this point? Probably. Did I? No. I just figured you were exploring. And you were eating the small portion that remained on the spoon between fits of banging. Multi-tasking is to be encouraged, right?
8:45 am full-outfit change for you for the day #1.
8:46 am. I’m cleaning yoghurt-smeared walls, floor, cupboards, highchair, floor-protector. Smiling while you decide to wedge yourself between a side-table and the wall.
8:47 am. I notice some grunting in between wall wedging yourself
8:50 am. I have to clean the smelliest poo in the world. It has contaminated 3 layers of your clothing. It’s very sticky and is difficult to get off even with 58 wipes.
8:52 am. Wiped relatively clean, I let you charge around the verandah naked while I get the shower ready.
8:55 am. We have a shower. You play with the soap, then get it in your eyes and cry. I wash it out and comfort you. You do it again. While smiling.
9:00 – 9:20 am. Crazy naked play on the verandah. Tunnel climbing, house-making, banging, plane-signing, talking to the birds. Running to the edge to look at the garbage trucks go by.
9:25 am. Third set of clothes for the day donned.
9:30-9:40 am. Read “That’s not my monster”. Repeat. Repeat. Attempt to read the Pear Tree but you get distracted and escape from the bed
9:45 am In bed. Lots of singing for about 15 minutes. Then silence. I log-on and do some work. I then get three loads of laundry hung out. The dishes from yesterday are still there.
11:15 am. You wake up. A bit grumpy. You have a big drink of boobie.
11:30 am. Phone call from a friend in which you attempt to steal the phone for me for 20 minutes. I try to pacify you by giving you the other phone, but you’re not having a bar of it. You are not fooled at all. I give up.
11:50 am. We bundle in the car and go for lunch to the bakery. I get a vegetarian spinach and cheese filo pastry and a pizza-like bread. You eat about a third of each and rejoice at the flock of birds that seems to mimic your every move as you alternately fling food about and smear it down my shirt as you sit on my lap.
12:15 pm. We bundle in the car and continue on to the library.
12:20 – 1:00 pm. You play crazily at the local library, climbing in and out of the train they have and screaming really loudly with glee and chattering about goodness-knows-what at the top of your voice to try and attract the attention of the three year old boys who are also playing in the train. You are obsessed by older boys at the moment and can’t get enough of watching them.
1:30 pm. We hit the supermarket. Whilst shopping, you manage to consume two entire bananas, a whole mandarin and a rice cracker.
2:30 pm. You sit in the unmoving but brightly-flashing ‘tea party’ teacup children’s ride outside the supermarket. I haven’t put money in it but you still seem to find it fascinating.
3:00 pm. We make it home. You go to bed. I log-on and do a little work, then go and get started on getting in, folding and putting away the three loads of laundry.
4:15 pm. You get up and make it around the house on the fit ball, destroying everything in your wake. I attempt to get the shopping put away.
4:30 pm. You find the ‘song box’ I made you and demand singing songs for half an hour. We sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and “Frere Jacques” on repeat for 30 minutes.
5:20 pm. You get up in the highchair and I heat up some dahl and rice for you. I give you a spoon and put the mix of dahl and rice on your highchair with some plain yoghurt. You eat it with your fingers and attempt to use the spoon. You see a banana and demand that. A plane goes over and you sign plane madly.
5:50 pm. Dad and Aunt R1 get home and you are now covered head to toe in dahl, rice, yoghurt and banana. Your dad takes over with you.
I do washing, tidy and then attempt to write this….
It’s now 6:40 and I’m late giving you your bedtime feed. ….
no wonder I’m tired!
Ps. thought I’d write this cause I went to an ABA meeting this week where someone commented that they couldn’t remember what they did all day from week to week. SO I thought I’d document it at random times over the coming year.
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