Friday 18 March 2011

Mothers' of multiples: I salute you.

I almost choked with laughter reading Andrew Lemoncello's weekly training diary. It all sounds very lovely. A wee run in the morning. Nap. Wee run in the afternoon. The bagel run on a Thursday sounds particularly exhausting.

Granted, Mr Lemoncello, you can run faster than I drive. But just by way of contrast, here's a day in my life. Wednesday being the example.

I got up before 6am to hit the pool before work. 100 lengths - front crawl no less. And it's a 25m pool, in case you think I'm splashing about in the spa. Ironically, I view this as my morning "off". I say this in the loosest term, as it means I do and sort everything the night before. Sonic has to dress and feed himself and Cairn, but still manages to be spectacularly late for work. 11.30am is the record so far. For a 9am start.

I'm out before 7.45am and at my desk for 8.30. First meeting is at 9.30 and the morning goes a bit t*ts up. I was supposed to meet the boys with the jet-propelled legs for a lunchtime speed session, but a few dramas later and I'm ten minutes late. Oh well, a lonesome 3 x 10 minutes with two minutes recovery. 8 miles all in.

Back to office, quick shower and I slide back into my office trying not to draw attention to the fact that I've been out for 20 minutes longer than the allocated lunch hour. I hope my employers are as lax about the concept of "lunch hour" as they are about the concept of "9-to-5".

Afternoon of juggling my department of one, which not only covers my own position but anything that no one else knows how to handle - namely readers of our beloved newspaper. I have many bizarre conversations which I tip-toe around in fear that a recording will reappear on some radio wind-up show. Note to self: Call switchboard to remind them that Newscastle is in fact not in Scotland.

Although I try to leave the office at 5:30, I'm bombing to the car at 5:50pm to pick up Cairn at nursery - which closes at 6pm. Sometimes I get the sweet satisfaction of not being the last parent there. Rarely though. I'm sure there's a Dad there that tries to race me.
On the five mile journey we sing songs from Cars (I’ve lost control of music choice) and get super-excited at the site of trains, buses, planes, ducks, trees and clocks. Quick detour via the petrol station and Tesco and I arrive at the front door laden door with shopping/gym/nursery bags, with my head doing 360ยบ to make sure Cairn doesn’t make a run for it. And we’re home. Phew!

First of the evening duties is Cairn's dinner - home-made of course - which has to be eaten with the Buzz Lightyear Spoon and splashed on the carpets and smeared his hair.

Then it's bathtime, but not before I scrub the bath that Sonic used to clean the mud from his trainers that morning. The pre-bath ritual usually involves me chasing him (Cairn that is, not Sonic) and removing items of clothing which are deposited around the house. There's often a screaming match as I try to coax him into the bath. Once he's in and realises that soaking the floor is really good fun, there's often a screaming match as I try to coax him OUT of the bath.

I dry him whilst he clings to my neck and try to pin him down so I can apply lotions and put his pyjamas on. I liken it to trying to put shoes on an octopus. Then he has a bottle of milk, which he drinks very, very slowly, as he has wised-up to the fact cartoon viewing is over when it’s finished. Despite watching Cars/Toys Story/Thomas for the 715th time, it’s still compelling viewing for a two-year-old. NB: I also lost control of TV viewing.

When I tell Cairn it’s bedtime, he jumps round the sofa and hides behind the curtains. I draw him out by telling him there are "spiders in there!” to which he shrieks and crawls out. I rue the day that the spider trick doesn't work.

Story. Bed. Bliss? Not quite, now I have to answer all the missed calls from office and proof pages for the next day’s paper, which can keep coming until 10pm.

I make dinner, which is pre-packed vegetables with baked potato - nuked in the microwave - accompanied by a tin of tuna. Healthy, nutritious and requires limited involvement. Whilst said dinner is nuking, I clean the kitchen floor and sort out clothing for the next day.

After dinner, I’ve got a basket full of washing to do. Two runners and a toddler keep the laundry cycle pretty fluent. Then I tackle an ironing mountain, which is more challenging that some of the hills I run up. The only saving grace is that I can catch up with missed episodes of Glee.

Bed at 10.15… Me and Mr Tim Noakes… before it all starts again the next day. Thankfully I’m in taper for next week’s 62 mile race, as high mileage weeks are way more dramatic. Night, Mr Lemoncello. Good luck with your 26 miles. Look how we’ve reversed the digits


Thomas said...

Come on Debs, what most woman ofter underestimate is that producing a high score on the X-Box is NOT easy!

But I am very impressed with your 8miles in 32 minutes. 4 minute/mile pace! Even Mr Violoncello cannot run that fast.

Honestly, you ARE in great shape and I am proud to be in your team!
Bring on the race!
Crazy G

SteveQ said...

Mothers of multiples? My mother had two sets of twins - all boys - and said one girl was harder than all the boys put together.

Fiona Rennie said...

Apparently me and Pauline never slept all night until we were four, it’s surprising we have a wee brother, but he is seven years younger and Mum said he was a delightful baby but no doubt after us Attila the Hun would’ve been!

John Kynaston said...

What a great post.

Just as well you are as fit as you are .... otherwise you wouldn't keep up.

Hope you can have a slightly easier week in preparation for next Sunday.

See you there!

Santababy said...

Debs, tell us what you really think! ;) i thank the lord Stephen had grown up by time i started running and take my hat off to you, i'm exhausted reading that. Great to see you today, you're looking great for a stressed out bloody busy yummymummy xx

Georgie Maguire said...

I'm so glad that someone else has the nightly bathtime/bedtime craziness with their toddler, Debs! It's enough to send me to the liquor cabinet most nights....well if I didn't have a two week old baby I'd be on the grog. Dear god, how am I going to get TWO kids bathed and dressed?? Very funny post!

Unknown said...

Hi Debs, hopefully nobody in the office reads this for your lunch hour times, but as we disturb you nightly with pdf's I am sure you are due more time for your lunch break, good luck for the race, always knew you would look good in blue!

Dale Jamieson said...

that was very entertaining. Thanks ;-)

Biograph Movies said...

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