Sometimes I feel like my life is like some sort of late-1990’s Ashley Judd movie probably called “The Backtimer,” or better yet, just plain “Backtimer.”
Having a baby– and having to be somewhere at any specific time– means an in-reverse race against the backwards clock to be punctual.
Today, I have to be at a friend’s house in the suburbs at 5pm.
Wake the baby up at 8, so she is fed and ready for a nap at 10– get her up at 11 so we can go out and run errands with her, but be home and fed again so she can be down for the second nap at 2:30…. get in just enough sleep to rouse her oh-so-gently around 4. Get her dressed, fed, and we’re ready to leave the house at 4:45.
Late, but in the ballpark.
Coming this Spring: Backtimer II: Fear No Passover