I’m up at dawn, before my brood.
A cup of coffee helps my mood.
A quick peek at my Facebook page,
Then Baby’s cry starts my day.
I take the stairs, two by two.
Please don’t wake Big Sister who,
Will surely cry and whine at me.
I take the stairs, three by three.
Before the diaper change is done,
Out from her room, comes Number One.
Since Daddy Dear is still in bed,
I plop the baby on Daddy’s head.
Some warm milk and some cartoons,
And Big Sister will be happy too.
So back up the stairs I go,
Baby needs to nurse, I know.
One arm holds Baby as she eats,
The other arm strips the sheets.
While Daddy showers (by himself)
I put some books back on the shelf.
Then to pick out clothes (a dress)
For my three-year old Princess.
For many times I’ve heard her chant,
“Princesses don’t wear pants!”
We’re right on time, we’re doing well,
When suddenly, I smell a smell.
I lift my baby and she squirms
And my expert nose confirms.
“Oh no!” I wail, “It can’t be true!”
The infamous, last-minute poo!
And could it be a tiny poop?
No, it’s a total blow-out. Shoot.
It’s now official, we’ll be late,
I hurdle over the baby gate.
Then I cheer, “Let’s go, hurrah!”
So what if I forgot my bra?
Finally, we’re on the road.
I sip my coffee, long gone cold.
No make-up on, I’m in my sweats,
But hey, at least the kids are dressed.
The afternoon goes by so fast.
What have I done? Please don’t ask.
I picked up all the toys and then
I got to do it all again!
The cats want in, the dog wants out.
“Make up your minds!” I want to shout.
And when the house is almost neat,
In runs the dog with muddy feet.
At half-past five, a smiling face,
My husband and my saving grace.
How was his day? No time to talk.
“Here, you take the kids!” I bark.
The girls, they laugh and squeal with glee.
How come they only whine at me?
Now that Dad is finally home,
I relish five minutes all alone.
Then “I’m hungry!” cries my oldest child.
Her hair is mussed, her eyes are wild.
And so I rush to fix her plate.
My starving daughter must not wait.
She eats four peas and two French fries,
Then very sweetly bats her eyes.
She licks some ketchup off her thumb,
Looks at me and says “I’m done.”
Now time for stories and for bed,
We kiss her pretty princess head.
I nurse the baby in the rocking chair,
And gently stroke her silky hair.
I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,
They’re both asleep at half past seven.
I’m exhausted and frazzled, it’s true.
But do I love my life? You bet I do.