My Nemesis

Let me preface this by saying that I work way harder at home than I do at my office.  No matter how hard my day is at work, I come home and work harder.  The difference being that the work at home is never-ending.  There is always something more that I could be doing – dishes, laundry, dinner, straightening up, helping my husband with his new business, getting ready for the next day…it just never ends.  Absent a pending court deadline, I can leave my office knowing that the work will all be there when I get back in the morning and I can start at it again.  At home we can actually run out of clean bottles for Hazeline if I don’t run the dishwasher or clean clothes if the laundry isn’t done.

With that said, my nemesis isn’t a person or thing, but rather a time of day.  No matter how crazy it is at my office, I think I work the hardest between 6:00 – 8:30pm.  That is the span of time from when I pick the girls up at daycare to the time I put them to bed.

I work in an office from 9 – 5:30 each day…well, maybe more like 9:50 – 5:20, but whatever, you get the point.  When it comes time to leave I race to pick the girls up at daycare.  I am so excited to see them and they are clearly excited to see me.  For a minute at least.

Then it starts.  Cue Greenleigh – “Mommy have nack?  Have-have nack?”  She wants a snack.  She has to have a snack.  God forbid I don’t have a snack in my purse or car for her, because all hell will break loose.  I know they feed her at school, especially since sometimes when I pick her up she is actually eating, but apparently snacks from mommy’s purse are way better.  I fumble through my purse in a cold sweat, “What if I forgot the snack?!” I think to myself.  This occasionally happens and it is not pretty.  I finally find a few Sunchips left over from my own lunch and that seems to make Greenleigh happy for a moment.  She knows she can’t have the snack until we get to the car, but just knowing it is there seems to give her comfort.  She happily trots off to get her Elmo backpack.

Then it is time to get Hazeline secured in her carseat.  She is not a fan of her carseat, so this is never the fun part.  After much flailing, I get her secured in the carseat and have to figure out where Greenleigh has gone.  You see, she can’t actually reach her Elmo backpack, it is up on a ledge so this is about the time when she gets distracted by the toys in the front room at daycare and begins The Noodle phase I.

After getting Greenleigh corralled, we attempt to exit the building except I have put everything down to corral Greenleigh so I must now pick everything up again.  Oh but wait, Greenleigh didn’t want her backpack on at first but has now decided halfway through the parking lot that she wants to wear her backpack.  Enter The Noodle phase II.

Finally we are in the car.  I proceed to ask Greenleigh about her day, to which every answer is “no” or “no Mommy”.  Clearly different answers.  “Did you have a good day, honey?”  No.  “Did you go outside today?”  No, no, no.  “What did you have for lunch?”  Nooooo Mommy.  Okay, it’s a phase, I get it.  Sometimes we will pass some ducks on our way home and she will yell out “Duck!”, to which I respond, “Oh yeah, look at the duckies, honey.  How cute.”, to which she responds “No.”  Of course.

The very second we walk through the door at home Greenleigh wants to eat dinner.  Not after you get a chance to cook it for her, but literally the moment you walk through the door she bee-lines for the kitchen.  You know that snack she was so interested in?  Gone.  She is hungry.  I swear they feed her at school – breakfast, lunch, and two snacks.  I have actually seen it happen or I might not believe it myself.

I attempt to prepare a fruit and cheese appetizer [read: a few blueberries and a Kraft single] to keep Greenleigh happy while I figure out what she is having for dinner.  Did I mention that Hazeline is still sitting the carseat in the middle of the living room?  I take her out of the carseat, hand her to Erajh, and mumble something about her needing to be put in jammies.  Back to the kitchen to decide what Greenleigh is having for dinner.  Once upon a time I had complex meal plans written out and put on the fridge, but at some point that stopped.  I finally decide on some spaghetti that we had the night before because she loves spaghetti.

I put down the meal I have so lovingly heated up for her, she takes two bites, and announces “All done Mommy, all done.”  Huh?  You were starving, remember?  “All done.”  Damn snack and appetizer filled her up.  I spend at least 10 minutes begging her to take a few more bites.  No luck.  I mix a bottle for Hazeline and hand it to my husband.  I decide to give up on Greenleigh’s dinner.

Is it wrong that sometimes pray for the girls’ bedtime to come swiftly?