How I Am Spending My Time Lately

My friend Becky does these funny pie charts on her blog, explaining how she spends her time.  I'm new to this blogging world, so I was looking at hers for ideas of what to write about (imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?)--but I wasn't sure about putting together a pie chart, as I'm neither savvy with the internets nor with math (or "maths," as my husband calls it. them? whatever), so here is a more wordy version of how I've been spending my time:

I spend about 37% of my day breaking bananas up into small pieces.  Did you know that if you push on the end of a banana, it will split itself into three sections?  This is something I did not know until I started feeding a toddler, but this dividing of bananas, and then the smooshing of each of the three sections into smaller, bite-size pieces, has now become a sort of zen-like part of my every day.  Dude really likes his bananas, and he's been sick lately (see below), so I'm not trying too hard to make sure he gets a huge variety of foods; I'm just content if he eats--so I give him the stuff he likes.  Bananas, sweet potatoes, broccoli, and peas, to be exact.  I was so determined that Dude be an omnivore, unlike his vegetarian father, but what he wants is bananas, sweet potatoes, broccoli, and peas.  And lentil soup.

The past few days, I have been spending about 20% of my time hanging out with Shay in a steamy bathroom, trying to break up his croupy cough.  Sometimes in the dark, in the middle of the night, trying to rock him back to sleep--these are the times when it is hard to find the humor in the situation.  Sometimes in the light, in the middle of the day, while he tries to drive his book about schoolbuses that also is a schoolbus into the tub, screeches in delight while unwinding the toilet paper roll, and repeatedly "boings" the doorjam--these are the times when I'm able to find humor in the situation.  Mostly, the humor is directed inwardly: before I had S, when I envisioned a scene of "reading with my children," it did not take place in the bathroom and it did not involve me saying "please don't drive your schoolbus book into the tub. You can drive your schoolbus book on the floor, or on the lid of the toilet."

I spend about 8% of my day admiring the Christmas lights on our window, working on holiday cards, browsing online shopping sites, baking gingersnaps, and generally spreading holiday cheer.

I spend 14% of my day finding cold coffee set down somewhere odd, reheating it, and then forgetting it in the microwave.

I spend 19% of my day trying to assess whether the child, dog, or grownup's leg that S is currently trying to hug, bang, or tackle is cool with being hugged, banged, or tackled.  In the waiting room at the doctor's office on Monday, he actually encountered an 18-month old boy who was quite a kindred spirit: the two walked up to each other, grinned, and then gave each other a big bear hug.  The bear hug kind of moved across the carpet before turning into a bear hug-tackle; S kind of got the brunt of the tackle as he ended up between the floor and the other kid.  So he cried for a sec, but both dudes were fine, and the other mom and I only needed to spend fifteen seconds assessing the damage in each other's worlds, quickly figuring out that both dudes hug, and tackle, frequently--so, no biggie.  This interaction required way less of my energy than the one at library storytime last week, when S walked up to a two-year old girl who was much bigger than him, smiled and hugged her, and she burst into tears.  I am way more shy around strangers than my son is, and moving through the world with him, encountering other parents and dog owners and people S flirts with is forcing me to be social in a whole new way. It's eye-opening, and exhausting.

I spend 2% of my day napping--I am exhausted (see above), but there just doesn't seem to be much time to do anything about it (see above).

What are you up to these days?