The Diary of a Nutcase Mother (a Tragi-Comedy in Two Acts)

In the good tradition of mother written diaries, I want to share with you a day in my life as a staying at home mother on the verge of colapse. I even have two variations, as you will see.

The Type A Day

I usually wake up a 7,oo a.m , prepare Maya her breakfast, kindergarten snack, clothes and stuff. Maya is up at 7,30 -7,45 and we're out at 8,20. In between combing her hair and trying to convince her to eat I manage to brush my teeth, drink my coffee in two gulps and on a very good day to put my sweater the way it should be put . I am known to go out with my t-shirt inside out, or in my slippers etc etc. I usually change in the elevator. Or not.

Home from the kindy I do the shopping, tidy the house, cook, laundry... Domestic stuff mainly. On a good day I even eat breakfast myself and manage some browsing on the internet. Checking the e-mail is compulsory.

At 13.15 I go to fetch Maya from the kindy.

Back home, I shower her, we eat together luch and then the (my) afternoon is hers entirely.

At aproximately 18.3o her father returns hom from work, I serve dinner and then I begin the battle known as putting Maya to sleep. After some TV, several bedtime stories and uncountable escaping attemps from Maya, at 8.30 she is asleep. I tidy again the house (or at least the living room and kitchen) and at 21,30 I am at my desk, trying to write. I am usually so hyped or tired that I cannot hold a pen between my fingers. I drink a coffee and some Diet Coke and try to recollect my thoughts. Thoughts recollected, I have to go to bed as I am not able to write. Nothing comes. Nada. Zero. In bed, I read until my eyes hurt and then I try to fall asleep. Then, the other thoughts, bad bad thoughts start creeping on me. Sometimes, also the cat. Finally, at 2,00 I manage to fall asleep. At 3,00 I woke up as the cat is licking my toes. I put the cat out. The cat scratches at the door. I take the cat and shut her in the kitchen. 4,00 o'clock and I am wide - eyed awake. At 5,00 I finally fall asleep...for two hours.

And this is a good day.

Variant Number Two, or the Type B Days

This applies to the days when my daughter is sick. Then I get caught in a carousel of doctors, ER, worries, medicine, high fever, panic attacks, coffee, lots of coffee, and there is no day or night, just me, waching over Maya. Because my husband works in another city I have to deal with all the problems by myself. The last time Maya was very sick I panicked like I never did. I even dropped my cellphone in the bath (Maya had a very high fever and I was giving her a bath to lower the fever) as I tried calling the doctor's office. I remember I kept calling and nobody answered, not at the clinic, and I called her homeopath, a great guy and he told me to take her to the emergency room at our health clinic. I don't drive and even if I did, my husband's got the car, so I remeber putting her in the old buggy and pushing her like a madwoman./

When Maya is sick I also get sick, literally. I have fierce stomach aches and...stuff. I usually drop a few kilos (not to worry, I quickly put them back, as I tend to eat lots of sweets when she starts feeling better).

Then, there are the in-between days, when Maya is on the mend and we're at home and she has my full attention because there is nobody really besides me. This are the days when I don't see anybody beside her, my husband and sometimes my son. I don't talk to anybody, nobody calls,nodoby knows if I am dead or alive. Sometimes, they call from the kindy to check on Maya. Also, in between meetings, my husband call from work. I am lucky I get the newspaper and I have the internet, otherwise I wouldn't know what happens outside our apartment.

And still, minding my daughter is the best thing that happened to me in the last ten years. It is really a blessing to be able to be with her, see her growing, becoming a person...Ifd anything, I am a happy (although slightly mad and very depressed) mother.

Before I finish I have to ask myself...if each day I tidy, cook, do domestic stuff how comes my house is always a pigsty and there is never anything to eat?