Eating Jello With a Fork

That pretty much sums up my days lately. I could say it's like herding cats, but even cats will listen when it's dinner time. My children... not so much.

Today started out okay - we even got out of the driveway at 6:15 and left the preschool at 6:35. Greta was a little clingy at the daycare, but I made the blue boat (a wee yard ferry boat that transports military and civilian workers from the Colwood side to the Esquimalt side) no problem and arrived at the gym by quarter to 8. Yes, it takes me 3 hours, from the time I wake up until the time I get to work. It's ridiculous, but that's the price we pay for living out of town.

This afternoon was even alright: stopped at Thrifty's to get an onion for Ray's Pizza Day at the preschool tomorrow and got some cheese buns (the last ones) and grapes too. Picked up Greta, who in the afternoons doesn't want to leave, and made it to the summit by quarter after 4.

Ray saw us arrive and came yelling towards us while Greta ran off to get herself into a little plastic car thingy. On the way to the car after rounding up a screaming Greta, she dropped my hand and started heading towards the giant white pick-up that was coming up the driveway, while Ray went to the wrong side of the car. I lunged for Greta and got Ray to the other side of the car and plonked Greta into her seat. Disaster averted.

Once home, supper was going to be ready in 15 minutes (pre-timed in the oven). That gave me enough time to zap some rice and veg and make up my mushroom salad. Ray helped put stuff away in the fridge, but lost interest in setting the table for me. The cat had escaped once we got home, so at least he wasn't under my feet.

Dinner time! I plated and cut the food, got the chocolate milk for the girls and took my first bite of cheese bun. "Mummy, can I have a red straw please?"

*sigh*

"Yes, Ray." and of course, can't forget Greta, so got her a straw too. She had to unscrew the lid from her cup, but she was successful in blowing bubbles in her 'choc-moc' just like her big sister.

After dinner, the cat decided to come in and join us for his meal. The girls just wouldn't leave the poor guy alone. They didn't go into the living room at all, just went wherever the cat went: dining room, under the kitchen table, under my feet at the counter, back into the dining room...

Meanwhile, I put leftovers into the containers, packed up the dishwasher again (how the three of us make so many dishes I'll never know!), washed the big stuff by hand, poured drinks for tomorrow, made up breakfasts and packed away the left-overs into the fridge. That took me 20 minutes, interspersed with, "PLEASE leave the cat alone!", and "Both of you! Out of the kitchen!" Neither plea worked.

Greta was in dire need of a diaper change by this point, so off we went upstairs to start the bath. The acoustics in our bathroom are just spectacular for the screaming Greta does when I wet her hair down. I need to wear some ear plugs.

I guess, writing it down like this, it doesn't seem all that hard. Thousands, MILLIONS of single parents do this all the time. Why am I so hard-done-by? All things considered, the girls are great. Ray's helpful (most times) and they usually listen when I ask/tell them stuff.

I guess it's the little things that get delayed, or pushed aside when it's just you doing stuff: the vacuuming has to be done in my bedroom (a white cat. What was I thinking?), the compost bucket needs emptying during the daylight hours, I would have like to had a fire downstairs tonight, but there was no time to light one and keep checking on it. Weekends are the only days that have available hours/minutes to do stuff. It's like I need an extra day per week, sans kids, to get anything done.

Who am I kidding? If I did have that day, I'd spend most of it online instead of doing my filing, cleaning, laundry, sorting of stuff, giving away of stuff, and other general household duties.

So now it's 9pm and I'm finally going to sign off. I may or may not get a chance to get online tomorrow morning to check my email and have a cuppa tea. It all depends on how fast I can get the rest of the lunches together.

Until I can get my feet under me, I'll just keep aiming for the jello with the tines I guess.