The Perfect (Imperfect) Day in the Life of a Woman

In honour of Women’s Day tomorrow and the imperfect lives we lead, below is how my ideal day would look (and then what it really looks like in italics). 

You wake up to the sound of tweeting birds and bounce out of bed.

You wake up to the sound of screaming. It’s either the 3 month old (because he’s hungry) or your toddler (because you’ve run out strawberry flavoured FutureLife and she will not eat ANYTHING else) or your husband shouting to tell you there’s no milk.

Your husband prepares a nutritious breakfast for the entire family while you soak in a bath. And then he washes up all the dishes.

You eat a piece of toast standing up while you make lunch, pack bags, brush teeth, spoon cereal into mouths, prepare bottles, make ponytails, blow noses, choose a toddler’s outfit and then choose a new outfit that includes more pink. And then you chug down some cold coffee.

You spend a leisurely hour choosing the right clothes, doing your make up and perfecting your hair.

You throw on your only pair of clean pants (that still fit) and put your hair up (wet). You cover up the dark circles under your eyes.

You get to work and everyone high fives you because you managed to feed and clothe 3 humans (and yourself) and still make it to your place of employment on time.

No one high fives you. And the printer is broken.

During the work day you bump into an old school friend and she says ” Wow you look amazing! Even slimmer than before you had kids – what’s your secret?!”

During the work day you bump into an old school friend and she says “Wow, you look really really tired, is everything okay?”

A colleague remarks that she really likes your new shirt.

A colleague remarks that  you have baby sick on the collar of your new shirt. And bits of grass in your scarf.

During your lunch break you pop to the gym and have a revitalising 45 minute workout.

During your lunch break you sprint up the driveway to fetch your toddler from playgroup. Because you’re late again.

When you get home from work you defrost the homemade lasagna you made for your toddler’s dinner.  And she gobbles it all up.

When you get home from work you throw four chicken nuggets in the oven and cut up a wrinkled cucumber you find at the bottom of the fridge. She doesn’t eat the cucumber.

On his return from work your husband notices that you are simultaneously stir-frying veggies, bathing a baby and wiping the toddler’s bum. He compliments you on your multi-tasking ability and offers to take over some of your tasks.

On his return from work your husband pours himself a whiskey, sits down on the couch and catches up on the latest sports results. He turns up the volume to drown out the sound of screaming.

You celebrate the end of the day with a healthy, freshly squeezed juice.

You reach for the wine.

You collapse on the couch, gaze around at the madhouse that is your family and you feel such love. You know that you are one lucky woman.

You collapse on the couch, gaze around at the madhouse that is your family and you feel such love. You know that you are one lucky woman.

***With apologies to my forgiving husband who does help out a little more than this post suggests***

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