Wednesday, January 27, 2010

The Days. Oh How They Are Long

Perhaps you could read this to the tune of "If you take a mouse to school..."

Erik has this job where he has to wake up at 6:45. In the morning. I know some people do this regularly but we are not usually of these people. Erik's getting up didn't wake me but Zoe popped in at 7:14. (You can tell what kind of day it's going to be by how strictly you pay attention to the minutes on the clock. ) From there, the day began. First, coffee. Then, breakfast for me and Z while Max still slept. I printed out the galleys to my book so I can try to get them off to Publishers Weekly today. Then, awaken the Max so he can eat. Bring Zoe's albuterol to her in the front room so she can nebulize whilst watching Curious George. Change Max. Print out homemade publicity letter. No color comes out on the color printer. Don't care. Black and white it is. Make Zo's lunch. Change Max. (Thank god Zoe is extremely capable of getting herself dressed. She's wearing my favorite yellow dress with yellow pants outfit. Thanks Z). I look up Publishers Weekly address. I also write, "in lieu of galleys" since these are homemade and I could do it after the copying and the binding but I'm afraid that this day will be a day where I spent 12 minutes trying to decide whether it's spelled leiu or lieu in the car at the post office.
Then, into the car we go: one of us with binkie, one of us with a water bottle, one of us with a manuscript, a lunch box, a diaper bag, a purse, and an array of re-usable grocery bags.

On the way to school, I describe to Zoe Max's doctor's appointment. He's going to get circumcised. I explained about the delicate removal of the foreskin from the penis. She said, I know what Max is thinking. I said, what. She said, Max is thinking "Doctor, don't cut off my penis." I said, he probably is thinking that.

I drop Zoe off at school, carrying Max in his baby bucket (relevant only later, and relevant only to my shoulders), go to Office Max for the copying and binding (with baby bucket), go to grocery store (with baby in bucket), I come home, bring in groceries, put away the groceries and feed the baby. I remember to eat a yogurt. Check email. Respond to a few. Friend calls to discuss Kindergarten, ballet, and piano lessons for Z. I have to cut her off because it's 11:49 and we are already late for the foreskin removal service scheduled for 12:10

Arrive at sad place. I have second and third thoughts. Think of springing the poor 3 week old from the medieval torture. Fortunately, the doctor ushers us in quickly, laughs at the medieval jokes AND Zoe's joke about don't cut off Max's penis. Funny doctors are rare and reassuring. They give Max sugar water. He's so enamored I'm afraid he'll never go back to breast milk. He cries when they anesthetize the area--the stick the lidocaine into his actual penis! but after that, no crying. Even when the take something that looks like a bottle topper or wire cutter right to the tip. The doctor successfully does not remove the penis. Zoe will be so happy which is good because we have to go!

Off to the post office to drop off PW package. Then, to meet Erik and Z at the dentist at 1:30. Arrive early. Eat Zoe's almonds from her lunch.

Z's first dentist appointment. Great teeth! Yay! We're not neglectful, horrible parents for waiting this long for the dentist (although we did just purposefully and intentionally torture our son but hey, life is pain, princess...). And then, come home. Eat chips. Eat cookies. (What happens when you don't eat lunch). Set a better example: Eat strawberries, grapes, celery. Feed Max (man, we're close to the 2, 5, 8, 11 schedule and yet it's 2:32). Played fish (I draw some fish.) Play Princess (again. As usual. What does the snow princess where? Whatever you're wearing Z). Play hide and seek (really? But I have to get up for that!). Write blog post for the new Essay Daily Website. Send novel to novel contest. Feed Max. Feel bad for Max who seems to be in a little pain. Worry he was just putting up a strong face for the doctors. Poor Max.

But, work! Send: flurry of emails about certificate program--3.0 gpa required? Everyone gets back to me so quickly that I fear I've neglected them lo these many weeks off. Won't my colleagues be thrilled when I'm officially back and emailing daily? (Not daily. I promise). Help Z wash lettuce for tacos. Find onions for Erik for tacos. Feed Max. Update blog. Type one-handed. Play pretend dinner with Z. Hope the table cleans itself off.
Looking forward to tonight, a multiple choice quiz.
a) shovel snow
b) read student (295 page!) thesis
c) finish thank you notes
d) send manuscript to other review places
e) play princess
f) feel bad for Max. Worry. Infection, bleeding, pain. Oh what have I done for the sake of not Max not having his penile region called pigs in a blanket (and other reasons. I promise. Also, the dentist supported the circumcision and had just read new studies about the preventative powers of the circ. So good then.
g) watch the state of the union.
h) want to watch Modern Family.

I say all of the above except A. But A sucks particularly when there's nowhere new to put the new snow. But I have an excuse. I have to feed Max. 9 lbs 7 oz a mere three weeks after his birth (including a first few day loss of 10 oz.).

Next blog: OK. This is all well and good but I go back to work next week.


Dr Write said...

Nice. Poor max! And you are very busy. So busy.
I don't write or send out manuscripts and I don't even have a baby! So good job on that!
Pretty soon they will both be self-supporting and you can relax. Soon. Really.

Lisa B. said...

Oh wow. Life in its full array. Well done, all of you. Poor baby.

So excited about your book! Galleys! or, in lieu of them.

Kate Rosenberg said...

Oh Nik. I want to bookmark this post forever to hand to friends who wonder what it's like to have kids and write and do a job and have a husband and eat and...sleep? It would take me three weeks to do that day...