I DESPISE this question.
Because it has no good answer.
All day long, I go from one thing to the other.
The vast majority of the time, I don’t even finish one task before being called to another.
Also, I can’t remember what I was just doing a minute ago most of the time.
But maybe that’s a different issue.
My husband asks me this question almost every night when he gets home from work, and to be honest, I take it defensively.
Not because he’s being anything other than polite.
But because of its ridiculous, nonsensical answer.
The truth is that I do nothing.
Nothing in the sense that NONE of it is worth telling anyone about.
And everything in the sense that I don’t stop.
I do boring things like giving Asher a bath, in which I spend 30 minutes admonishing him to please keep the water in the bathtub while simultaneously cleaning up copious amounts of water from OUTSIDE the bathtub.
Which I’ve been doing for 4 months.
4 freaking months of nonstop pumping because Meyer is still not eating much of anything by mouth.
I want to stop.
Did I mention time-consuming?
But Meyer is a preemie and I want him to have every advantage he can get.
So I pump.
And I pump.
And I pump.
And I get so tired that it starts to sound like the motor of my pump is saying things to me too obscene to repeat.
And then I feed the milk to the baby.
Tiny amounts by bottle for practice.
And then the rest through his tube.
And then I clean up.
And then I feed Asher.
And clean up.
And then I try to find something to cook for the grown-ups.
And then I repeat it all.
Again and again.
I spend so much time feeding people and cleaning up after people that I literally do not care about food anymore.
I just want to eat something and get it over with.
I wash clothes.
God, the clothes I wash.
I forgot how much a newborn spits up.
I guarantee you that by the time a load of laundry has been going for ten minutes, Meyer has spit up on something else.
Also, I’m starting to suspect that whenever my husband picks up any piece of clothing, towel, blanket or cloth of any kind (which he does obsessively) around the house, and doesn’t know what to do with it, he just puts it in the laundry room to be washed.
And since we’re basically living out of laundry baskets onto which I just pile heaps and heaps of new clean laundry everyday, and because we have a 4-year-old who can destroy a house in less minutes than he is old, lots of things end up on the floor.
And then in the wash.
I’m pretty sure there is at least one shirt of Asher’s that I’ve washed in every load of laundry for the past 3 weeks.
Or maybe, as we mentioned before, it’s just me losing my mind.
I take my kids to doctors.
If one of my kids has an issue (or multiple ones as the case may be), I google and I read and read and read.
Because if there’s anything I’ve learned in the last few years, it’s that you have to be the captain of your own ship. Even doctors, as qualified and brilliant as they might be, do not know your kid like you do.
And it’s just not in my nature to leave my problem-solving to someone else.
Or a control-freak.
It’s all semantics.
I change diapers.
I play with Spiderman or Batman, depending upon Asher’s mood and wardrobe choice.
I twist a friend’s arm to paint my baby’s name on his wall.
I spend 3 hours packing up all my kids’ stuff to spend 1 1/2 hours at the zoo.
Occasionally, not as often as I used to, and certainly not as often as I want, I write a little blog post.
Beyond those infinitesimally boring tasks, I have no idea what I do.
But know that I do it.
And do it.
And do it.
Please, please, please.
If you see me around, ask me anything besides “What did you do today?”
Because having to answer “Nothing and everything” will make no sense to you at all.
Unless you’re a mom.
And then you don’t even need to ask.