Wake up. Desperately hope, wish, pray for a fog delay. Ice delay. Snow delay. Doesn't matter that it's May. Just hope. No such luck.
Nurse the baby. Watch the alarm clock, counting down the minutes--seconds--that you have left to spend in bed smelling his sweet head. Finally, resign yourself to the lack of ice in May and get out of bed. Slap on makeup. Pretend that your child is content playing on the floor and isn't really holding up his arms hoping you'll pick him up.
Stumble downstairs. Sigh in dismay when you realize that the cleaning fairies--yet again--did not visit your house overnight. Make a mental list of all that you have to do tonight, realizing that half of it won't get done. Try to sneak out of the house before the toddler wakes up, because as much as you want to see him, you know it's easier if you leave while they're asleep. Hear toddler. Happily hug him, knowing it makes it harder to leave. Give him jelly beans for breakfast because it's much easier to say yes than to start a temper tantrum before you have to leave. Those break your heart more than anything.
Drive away. Swallow the lump in your throat as both boys press themselves up against the door. Spend 50 minutes in a meeting. Think of all the cleaning you could be doing instead of sitting in a meeting. Wonder how your house is so messy when no one is in it all day long.
Work. Pump. Wonder how your pump can actually be louder than a jet engine. Work. Eat. Pump.
Drive as fast as you can to the sitter's. Pass the same guy in the black truck at the same spot you pass him every afternoon. Feel a little sad at the routine of your life. Try to beat the bus into the driveway, knowing that stopping for the bus delays you two precious minutes and time is short in the evenings. Beat the bus. Fist pump. Run inside. Smell toddler's head for a minute straight. Hate that you have to put toddler down because it makes him sad. You too. Finally convince toddler to get down and put on his shoes. Open arms to accept baby, who is now waylaid by the kids from the school bus who now wants to hug him. Consider pushing them out of the way because he is YOUR baby and you have missed him more. Grit teeth. Finally get baby in arms. Smell his head for a minute straight. Hate that both boys smell like the sitter's house.
Home. Nurse the baby. Wish he would nurse for longer instead of wanting to explore. Snacks for the toddler. Give in to him watching TV. Know that you'll spend the entire evening walking the balance between wanting to discipline and wanting to just let him do whatever because you miss him so damn much during the day. Play. Eat. Play. Baths. Nurse and rock the baby. Wish tomorrow was Saturday. Baby to bed, story time with toddler. Try not to rush it, but realize that it's almost 8 and you haven't showered yet. Shower. While showering, promise self that you'll clean the house. Get out. Give yourself ten minutes on the computer to try and unwind. Fall asleep sitting up. Give up. Look at the dirty house. Shrug. Go to bed.