My day starts with the ear splitting, nightmare inducing of Elliot’s alarm screeching. This happens about three times before he manages to drag himself out of bed. I probably try and convince him to stay. Some days I even win for five minutes.
One of the alarm squeals has probably woken up Rose and she is probably cooing away to herself in the Moses basket. In my zombie like state I scoop her up feed her next to me in bed. Wave goodbye to Elliot whilst Rose gulps away noisily.
After about twenty minutes, Rose has fed herself to sleep, milk drunk and content. This is my chance to throw myself in the shower. I promise myself it will be quick but end up staring at the shampoo bottle for ten minutes before I have even started.
When I get out, Rose is still asleep. She’s had a hard morning of eating and sleeping so I let her rest. If I hurry, I know I could be ready by the time she wakes up. But instead I spend half the time staring at the baby and the other half staring at Facebook.
Rose is awake and I’m still in my dressing gown. Time for another feed. After that, I run a bath for her. Which she loves. I take her out and wrap her in a towel. Which she doesn’t love.
Time for another feed. Luckily I’m still not dressed, so easy.
I look at the time, I have some time left. I put Rose back in her basket and spend way too much time doing my make up. I don’t like my face. I think about what I can do fix it. I then choose my clothes based on what I think hides most of my body and will trick observers into thinking I’m acceptable.
Rose has another cry so I feed her again. Rose then promptly throws up her entire feed down herself and her clothes, so it’s time to change her. I look at the time one last time. Shit. Now I am definitely late.
Run downstairs, dismantle the pram, force the pieces into my way too small car, collect a now inexplicably upset (I think she can sense my hurry) Rose and strap her into the car seat, run her to the car, pause a moment before I shut the door and realise I have neither my keys, a spare nappy, my phone or my purse, run around the house trying to locate all these things, soothe Rose again and finally leave my house.
The last five minutes before leaving, seems to actually have taken me twenty minutes. I should have been where I am going two minutes ago.
I’ll probably be late tomorrow as well.