It’s 6:15pm and here I am, minutes before I walk out the door for a string of 12 hour night shifts. I have about 10 minutes invested in my “professional” look; comfortably dressed, a little simple eye make-up, and crowned with a top-knot . In the 10 minutes it takes me to throw myself together, my kids manage to unravel a roll of Toilet paper, trash their play kitchen down the hall, run away with a few of my cosmetic essentials, empty a cabinet drawer into the bath tub, and throw several upstairs items over the railing to the main floor. My husband was home at 4:30pm and we basically greet each other in passing.
I stayed up late last night to launder the clothes in off-peak time (because we roll like that) and then spent all of my morning folding and putting away the clothes, prepping cloth diapers, and making homemade wipes, squeeze in a quick visit from my mom and sister, and a quick grocery shop before rushing home to make dinner. I barely sit down to eat before I am hauling ass upstairs to get ready, fortunately, I managed to squeeze in a shower during afternoon nap time (not that my 2.5 year old slept or anything).
Moments after I took these photos, I ran down stairs to throw together my lunch bag, and night shift essentials, and practically blew kisses on the run, whilst hollering to my husband “Have fun them, Sucker!”
And on that note, I am happy to have my workplace retreat at the Psych hospital tonight.