March 3, 2014

We're All Mad Here

One of the lunatics who lives with me
My Skewed View

It's time for another Mix Tape Tuesday!

This week's theme? Your life's soundtrack.

I'm taking some liberties.

Imagine if you will, my daily life is a movie. And it's not a very good movie, I'm afraid. It's more a series of montages.

Or something. At any rate, this wouldn't be a very good movie. It certainly wouldn't take home any Oscars. But it would have a great soundtrack.

So here it goes. My day as a montage of montages, set to music.

We open on a bleary eyed SuperMommy, walking back and forth down the hall as she wipes butts, changes diapers, finds shoes, packs lunches, finds lunch boxes, finds socks, puts dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and clean dishes away. Then she shifts gears and starts walking circles around the other end of the house, putting coats on small people, finding hats, mittens, scarves, backpacks, sunglasses, boots, etc.

Cut scene to...

From the moment we step into the car this music starts playing. The children bounce with all their might as we idle in the car, waiting for it to warm up. They bounce all the way to preschool. They bounce while I unbuckle RH from her car seat. During the bridge they run up to the preschool, I help them remove all their winter gear and then turn around and go back to the car. During the drive home again, RH throws her hands in the air and bounces in the fashion of her big sisters.

SuperMommy walks back and forth across the house again, lugging laundry or putting away dishes. Directly behind her is RH, running to keep up. "Helping" put away dishes, laundry, books. She dusts the floor where SuperMommy sweeps, scattering the piles. She sits down and plays with a ball, and SuperMommy sits at the computer to write. Repeat.

SuperMommy picks up the kids from school, she drags them screaming to the car. She urges them up the hundreds of miles of stairs back to the apartment. She disrobes them again. She puts them into bed. She finally eats, in bed, watching DS9. She briefly falls asleep.

The children run. They run from the kitchen to the dining room and back again. They run in circles around SuperMommy, who vaguely shoos them towards the TV. They jump on the couch and throw goldfish crackers in the air. SuperMommy shoos them to the playroom, where they remove every single toy from its bin. They dress in tutus and feather boas and resume running. In a desperate ploy to keep them quiet for downstairs neighbors, she urges them to race each other crawling, and all three children bear crawl back and forth down the hall in tutus and feather boas.

SuperMommy boils water while steaming vegetables and making sauce. The children continue running in circles. They take turn covering SuperMommy in necklaces and hats. SuperMommy sets the table, forces the children to sit down and eat. Stands up to get cups of water. Stands up to get a banana. Stands up to clear the table. Puts the kids in the bath. Puts the kids in pajamas. Oversees toothbrushing. There is much screaming as bedtime approaches. Fortunately, all the viewer sees is pantomimed misery set to the cheerful strains of Belle and Sebastian.

The children take turns walking like zombies to and from the bathroom, demanding nails be trimmed and additional hugs, making requests regarding obscure toys never before cared for but now essential. SuperMommy follows in a trance, surrupticiously eating marshmallows and updating Twitter.

M comes home, and in a rush we make dinner, clear the table from the kids' dinner, put our food onto plates, then climb into bed and eat it while watching the previous night's Daily Show and Colbert Report, laughing and poking each other the whole time.

We both pass out with the lights still on, and the movie fades to black.



  1. Loved the day in the life, and I really enjoyed your musical selections! I have two teens. They are only a year apart, and I remember a lot of crazy chaos. Now they're in the "grunt hello" phase, and I miss the craziness sometimes. (Yay White Stripes!)

  2. And you just wrote the perfect essay for another book. You didn't even need the music, although it was perfect and mood setting. But the story, even better. I would submit that somewhere if I were you. I can't even imagine your day. Read Marcy's post. Wait no don't. Soon our kids will be teenagers, then we can do what Marcy did.



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