The Jugglenaut

Yes, you read right: jugglenaut. My sisters and brother can tell you I like to make up words. (Think muddle instead of mud puddle among a zillion others I coined in my youth.) So, today is the perfect day to describe me as a jugglenaut. As you may know, a juggernaut is a force to be reckoned with. Or as Mr. Webster defines it: “a massive inexorable force, campaign, movement, or object that crushes whatever is in its path.”

Well, a single mom on a quest to get everything done in order to have a few hours of romance on a week-day evening, is a jugglenaut. For example, here’s how my day is going so far:

6:30 a.m. : Wake by a kick and I realize that both boys are in my bed with me. (I recall that the older came in at 10, then the three-year-old at 3 a.m.)

6:30 – 7:55 a.m.: Rush to make breakfast (yogurt, rasberries and orange slices); prepare a lunch my picky, older son will eat: roast beef sandwich with homemade thousand island dressing, marinated olives and rasberries (I know, he’s spoiled rotten.); feed all animals: fish, cat, gecko; get dressed; wash face; make bed; yell at boys to make beds; take out trash.

8 a.m.: Race to drop off my older son at school. Come back home for 45 minutes. In that time I do a load of laundry; clean the dishes from the night before; text babysitter to confirm she’s on for the evening; figure out what’s for dinner; get my younger son dressed; pull together cashmere samples (long story); send a quick note back to romantic interest; and just after getting into the car, discover three-year-old had a huge poop! Go back in, change Jamesy, then start over. Rush, now late, to our weekly mommy-and-me class.

9:30 – 11:30: Bake cookies; sing songs; chat with other moms; and play games with my son at mommy and me.

11:45 a.m.: My son and I deliver a decorated cookie to an adorable, older gentleman who is predominately stuck in his room at the moment.

Noon: Drop off three-year-old at day care and race back home.

12:30 – 1:30 p.m.:  Email a few prospects for my Fit Pregnancy story; line up structure for my gastric bypass article; email my producer at Dr. Drew for an upcoming article; tweet a bit to promote blog and other blogs; read about how to monetize blogs; nibble on almonds, apricots and a granola bar.

1:30 – 1:45: Chat with BFF on phone as I walk to my son’s school.

1:45 – 2 p.m: Nag older son about not eating lunch; force him to eat lunch; force him to start homework and drink water.

2 p.m. – 2:55 p.m.: Race to the strand and run for 3 miles and do bar ballet stretches on pier. (Had to after an insane yoga class two days before! I feel like my muscles will somehow harden forever after that class where grown men were crying!)

3 p.m.: Race to take older son to therapy.

Phew! So, that’s where I am right now, sitting in the therapist’s office. What’s next until 5:30 p.m.? Pick up younger son from daycare; race home; prep a yummy dinner for them since babysitter can’t cook (roasted organic chicken and roasted shallots, onions, carrots, garlic, olives and fingerling potatoes); SHOWER; FIND A SEXY OUTFIT; get older son in suit for his dance; kiss younger son goodnight; give babysitter nite-nite directions; drive older son to his Christmas cotillion and confirm his ride home and … then … SNEAK AWAY. I’m sneaking out for a date with a gorgeous man. All this running around will seem very worthwhile as I’m sipping a spritzer and am sitting across from him. 🙂

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