A Day In the Life of a Mom with Three Small Children

or Why I Always Feel Like I’m Spinning My Wheels

This is a time audit, is what it is. As a mother with three kids ages four and under, I always feel like I’m running around wildly, trying to get everything done, and at the end of the day, I’ve accomplished…nothing. But objectively, I’m doing something. Right? I keep three humans alive. Everyone usually has clean clothes to wear and clean plates to eat off of. Heck, I even get a shower in every couple days.

Maybe you landed here because you want to know what life is truly like with a four-year-old who has just learned to lie, a two-year-old who insists on doing everything herself, and a five-month-old who still can’t figure out the whole rolling business.

This is it. This is what it’s like. Controlled chaos.

A Normal Monday

5 a.m. My alarm goes off. I snooze it. It’s not like my night went terribly, but #3 has recently learned that she doesn’t actually need to sleep through the night. Also, #2 is working on a cold and woke up shortly after I’d laid down from feeding #3, so TL;DR I didn’t sleep great last night.

5:20 a.m. #3 is fussing on the monitor, so I begrudgingly decide to get out of bed. I start a load of laundry and make my coffee. She stops fussing, but at least I’m out of bed now.

5:37 a.m. I’m feeling more awake now, and begin my twenty minutes of Morning Pages.

5:55 a.m. #3 stirs again, and this time she really does sound awake and ready for milk. I feed her.

6:10 a.m. Done with the feed, I lay #3 back in her crib and go back to finish my Morning Pages.

6:16 a.m. Finished with my Morning Pages, I now have to decide — do I work out, shower, or write 350 words of the novel I’m restarting for the 82nd time?

6:21 a.m. I choose the shower, since it’s been three days and that’s about my limit. I do my morning toilette while listening to a podcast. Then I decide to aspirationally put on my workout clothes.

6:40 a.m. The workout clothes do the trick — I choose to start my workout as a means of hiding from the kids, who are my husband’s responsibility in the morning anyway, and who will no doubt want to cling to me as soon as they see me.

6:52 a.m. Workout finished, I go inside and find #1 laying on the floor in the process of waking up. I try to write a few words but get distracted, and suddenly it’s time to wake #3 up.

7:00 a.m. I wake her up. The feeding doesn’t take long because I literally just fed her an hour ago, but I want to top her off anyway. I decide to take her 5-month photo plus weight and height measurements for her monthly blog update while I get the chance. Partway through, #2, just woken up, wanders in with a “Mommy!” In the background, I hear #1 banging around on the piano.

7:30 a.m. Husband disappears into the library to do his morning prayers, or so I think. I take charge of all three. #1 makes me go into his bedroom to show me a ramp trick, so I take #3 with me. She is entranced by the fan on the ceiling. #2 periodically makes me wipe oatmeal spills off her shirt and pants.

7:34 a.m. #2 brings her bowl of oatmeal into the bedroom. I glance over at the full laundry basket of kids’ clothes and think, “Didn’t I literally just wash their clothes?” I give #3 a toy and note that she’s got the hand-to-hand transfer down. Cool!

7:37 a.m. #2 spills a large spoonful of oatmeal down her front, which is, to her, unacceptable. As I’m wiping it up, I receive a call from my mother-in-law, who wants to discuss my last Medium story.

7:42 a.m. #2 disappears and then comes in demanding “nath.” Not understanding, I ask her to show me what she wants, and she leads me to the pantry. As it turns out, she’s asking for nuts. I give her a small muffin cup of nuts. Then I put #3 on her stomach for a bit of tummy time. She lasts a full 2 1/2 minutes before getting angry. I worry momentarily about her flat spot and the fact that she’s not rolling yet.

7:46 a.m. #1 needs more oatmeal, but it turns out he hasn’t finished his first bowl. I help him load the spoon and he finishes it off, then demands more. I get more oatmeal for him, and more nuts for his sister, then I wipe down the table and wonder briefly why my husband hasn’t taken the kids to school yet. Is he still praying? I hear the sander running in the garage, and go out to talk to him. We both discover a miscommunication has occurred.

7:54 a.m. I give one of #2’s almonds to #1. I know #2 doesn’t like almonds, but she gets upset anyway. #1 asks for a bowl of nuts like his sister.

7:59 a.m. #2 returns to me after disappearing briefly. As it turns out, she’s shoved all the almonds into her mouth, chewed them up, remembered she doesn’t like almonds (again), and is in the process of spitting them onto the carpet when I catch them in my hand.

8:00 a.m. Husband and I run around getting the kids shoes and water for school. In the hustle, #2 disappears. I find her in the bathroom with her pants down, getting ready to use the toilet.

8:03 am. Big kids off, I return to my neglected #3, whom I’ve left under the play gym and is happy batting at the rattle toy. I share a few moments of sweet one-on-one time with her before relocating us both to the kitchen to empty the dishwasher and finish making breakfast for myself. I also take a moment to get dressed.

8:23 a.m. I begin random administrative computer work while sitting on the kitchen floor next to poor #3.

8:41 a.m. I decide to put #3 down for her nap, then start a pot of tea and change over the laundry.

9:05 a.m. Finances finished and tea made, I finally settle down to begin writing. I decide to start by knocking out #3’s five-month blog update.

9:27 a.m. Blog post finished, Husband starts talking at me about a random subject. I try to listen, but he sees the pained look on my face and I admit that this is my one, protected time to write, and I’d rather he left me alone. Nevertheless, I feel bad for shutting him down. I go back to my 350-word daily writing goal.

9:49 a.m. Done with my novel work, I move on to entering the daily notes so far into my Medium article. Feeling meta? I realize, with some surprise, that #3 is still asleep. She’s the master of 45-minute naps, so this extension is unexpected.

10:30 a.m. I finish entering my notes. The baby is still asleep, which brings a new set of unanswerable questions. Do I wake her up now that it’s been nearly 2 hours? Let her be? I wonder how her next nap will pan out — if she’ll be okay to stay awake until I pick her siblings up at 12:30, and if I’ll get my own nap in. I decide to just let her sleep, to make up for yesterday’s shorter sleep day. Then I check on her on the monitor to make sure she hasn’t died in her crib and see her with her feet up in the air. She appears to have woken up ten minutes ago. I decide to leave her be until she starts fussing for me.

10:35 a.m. I check my email and find something that needs attention. A minute later, as I’m logging onto the website to take care of it, #3 starts crying. I leave to feed her.

10:56 a.m. Feed over, I’m about to change #3’s diaper when I hear her rip a juicy fart. I decide to wait five minutes to let whatever’s happening work its way out. In the meantime, I finish taking care of the email business.

11:01 a.m. I brave the diaper. Waiting turns out to have been a good call.

11:13 a.m. #3 is happily playing with a stuffed lion, so I begin my copywriting email pitches.

11:46 a.m. I finish my pitches, surprised by how quickly and painlessly I got them out today. I make #3 giggle for a bit, and then decide to make a quick call to the pest control company to have them re-spray for ants. A headache is approaching, so I stop by the kitchen to pour myself another cup of tea.

11:53 a.m. I put away the load of #3’s laundry that’s been in the dryer since last night and flip her onto her tummy again.

11:57 a.m. I relocate #3 to the kitchen to play while I come up with an after-school snack for the big kids to ignore after I pick them up. I put a podcast in my ears while I cut watermelon into cubes and dish some pretzels and cheese sticks onto two plates. I also begrudgingly create a treasure hunt clue card for #1, who is really into treasure hunts right now. Janet Lansbury wouldn’t approve, but he gets so much out of it that I do it in spite of having to rack my brains for a new location word he’ll be able to sound out each day.

12:08 p.m. #3 is getting fussy. I grab the Imperfect Foods box that’s been delivered from the doorstep and quickly put away the groceries inside.

12:12 p.m. I pack up the baby to get her siblings. On the way out the door I glance at my planner and decide to quickly book a sitter for Thursday night, so I can check that off the list. I stop by the mailbox on my way out. A fresh bag of coffee has arrived!

12:35 p.m. Home again with all three, I feed the baby before her nap. #1 does his treasure hunt. Still nursing, I manage to break up a fight over an I Spy book, open a cheese stick, and help #2 take her pull-up off.

12:48 p.m. I put #3 down for a nap. She fights it, but barely. Meanwhile, the older siblings begin to fight their own naptimes.

1:01 p.m. In the end, I win out. Everyone is asleep or on the way to it. I’ve locked #2 in her room because she has recently developed the habit of escaping. She’s upset, but the crying ends quickly and the monitor shows that she’s still in her bed, which I consider a success. #1 yells for me to get him fresh water for his water bottle. Once he’s taken care of, I disappear into my own room to nap.

1:26 p.m. After 19 minutes of rest, I get up to seek out lunch. I turn on an audiobook and prepare a charcuterie-inspired plate.

1:37 p.m. As I’m putting the finishing touches on lunch, I hear #3 begin to cry. I wolf down a few crackers and a nori-wrapped avocado slice while I wait to see if she’s really waking up for good.

1:44 p.m. She’s really waking up for good. I go in and feed her.

2:00 p.m. Feed done, I put her on a blanket on the floor of the living room, change her diaper, and then let her play while I finish eating. I contemplate making an Americano with the new coffee, but decide to exercise restraint, since it’s the afternoon and I do want to sleep tonight. Instead, I down four Motrin.

2:20 p.m. I tidy up the house quickly and grab a bag of fake taco meat out of the freezer. I thank Past Me for preparing the cauliflower-walnut concoction months ago.

2:30 p.m. Call from husband. As I’m answering it, #2 starts crying — she’s discovered she’s locked in. I quickly get #1 out of his room to wake his sister up. Nap time is over anyway. He unlocks the door and gives her a big hug. This is what all these ridiculous days are about, I think briefly. #2’s crying doesn’t stop, and I realize after a few minutes that, while I thought she’s been saying “I do it!” this whole time, she’s actually been asking for water. Once I give her her water bottle, she settles in happily on the couch, while #1 plays with blocks. #3 munches her favorite taggy blanky. For a moment, we are all at peace.

2: 39 p.m. I ask the kids if they want grapes. #1 says he wants popcorn. #2 immediately runs to the pantry with an “I do it!” to retrieve the kernels, and then pulls out several skillets in an attempt to find me something to pop the kernels in.

2:44 p.m. #3 fusses from the living room where I’ve abandoned her. I’m in the kitchen actively popping popcorn though, and yell that I’ll return in a second.

2:50 p.m. Kids start eating their snacks. #2 begins feeding me grapes that she doesn’t want. #1 starts throwing grape stems at me.

2:58 p.m. #1 asks for water, but I’m on the ground and don’t feel like getting up, so I send #2 to retrieve it. She happily skips off to find it, and returns with the requested water bottle seconds later. I relocate myself and the baby to the kids’ room to put away the now-clean kids’ laundry. #2 follows us in with a blanket and pretends to be a snake. A minute later, #1 joins us, and immediately hits #3 with a stuffed bear.

3:05 p.m. After a short debate, I put the basket of stuffies in #1’s bed so he can empty it and snuggle. #2 joins him soon after.

3:08 p.m. #3 yawns. I do some quick mental math and decide that she probably only has one nap left in her for the day, and since this is the case I should try to push it as late as I can. #1 announces he needs his beloved owl & blankie in bed with the rest of the stuffies. #2 climbs out of bed and retrieves them for him.

3:13 p.m. The baby starts getting fussy again, so I change the her diaper and put her in the crib for a nap. I realize after she begins crying in protest that it’s only been 90 minutes since her last nap, and that this attempt will probably be unsuccessful.

3:22 p.m. I finish putting away the laundry — go me! — and then rescue #3 from her failed nap. #1 makes a production of leaving his bed via the Pikler triangle ladder to retrieve more popcorn & use the bathroom.

3:41 p.m. I get momentarily distracted by my phone while trying once more to book a sitter for Thursday; meanwhile, #1 becomes fascinated by the toilet tank emptying when he flushes, and when he’s done with that he comes and stands on my back. #2 attempts to tie a stuffed bear’s scarf around her waist as a belt, and then gives up and bounces on my back like I’m a horse.

3:44 p.m. #2 retrieves a piece of paper from trash and gives it to #1, who demands she join him in the Pikler triangle. He’s pretending it’s an aircraft. A few minutes later, he comes out of room flying the piece of paper like an airplane, then decides to eat more popcorn.

3:50 p.m. I put #3 down again for her nap. This time she quiets within a few minutes. I take the trash out; #1 and #2 fight over who gets to replace the trash bag.

4:02 p.m. #1 requests I build a tent out of our play couch and the Pikler triangle.

4:10 p.m. I tidy the house again while the kids are momentarily entertained by the newly-erected tent.

4:20 p.m. I take a break to use the restroom. While occupied, the kids break into the bedroom and #1 finds the Kiwi Crate sent by his grandmother. I’ve been waiting to open it because I know it will be full of small parts that his sister will want to toss around. I open it anyway, and discover I was right. I tell #1 we can do it when #2 is playing with Dad later in the day.

4:30 p.m. TV time. The kids decide to watch Reading Rainbow. I begin work on tomorrow’s bullet journal entry.

4:37 p.m. #3 wakes up. I take her into the bedroom where the kids are watching TV to feed her.

4:50 p.m. Distracted feeding over, I return to my bullet journal and discover that #2 has drawn all over the pages with the pen.

5:08 p.m. I tear myself away from Reading Rainbow to begin working on dinner. Husband walks in from work and we chat for a bit. #3 joins me on the floor of the kitchen, again.

5:45 p.m. I finish the dinner preparations and help #2 put on her pajamas and use the restroom, then rejoin the kids for the last few minutes of Reading Rainbow. I feel guilty for letting them watch three episodes, when normally they only get two.

5:53 p.m. I wait in the living room for husband to finish cleaning up the bedroom and come out for dinner. The baby munches on a silicone ring beside me. The kids join their dad in the bedroom and shut the door — I hear the sounds of them bugging him, followed by the sounds of a fight: “That’s mine! That’s mine!” I do a lesson of Duolingo Latin, happy to not have to intervene this time. Beside me, the baby blows bubbles.

6:06 p.m. The situation disintegrates quickly. #3 is yelling. The kids are yelling. Everyone is yelling. We sit down to eat. Dinner is not without incident. #2 spills her water all over the table, and when I try to grab a towel to clean it up, both kids yell at me because they want to be the ones to clean it up.

6:29 p.m. Dinner is over, and we begin our bedtime routine. We fight pajamas on #1 and then pray. I’m reminded that I promised #2 Cheerios after her nap and never followed through, so both kids get bowls of Cheerios to snack on while I get #3 to bed. She goes down easily, which is a relief after the past few nights’ struggles.

7:14 p.m. Both big kids are in their beds. In spite of aggressive tidying throughout the day, the house is still a huge mess that will require an hour to put back into shape. Also, the trash and recycling bins need taken to the curb. I turn on an audiobook and dive in.

7:19 p.m. #2 comes out of the room, saying she needs to use the restroom. Ten minutes later, she comes out again, with the same excuse. Husband and I take out the trash, then husband sets the alarm for the night.

7:47 p.m. The baby wakes up and begins crying aggressively. I go into feed her and the door slams a little too hard. The glass break alarm is triggered, and the sirens go off. #1 flips out. The baby cries even more aggressively. I feed her while husband deals with calling the alarm company and calming down the big kids.

8:03 p.m. I’m done feeding the baby, but she’s not wanting to go back to sleep. But I know she needs to sleep, so I move into the kitchen to cut a watermelon and feed the sourdough starter while she wails. Within 10 minutes, she’s finished crying and presumably back to sleep. The big kids are also settled, finally, so I close their bedroom door.

8:28 p.m. #3 begins crying again, and I wonder if the universe is playing a trick on me. This is not a normal night for her. I pull her out of bed again and realize she sounds congested — she’s caught #2’s cold. I decide to feed her a bit more, since there’s nothing else I can really do. She’s happy when I’m finished, and smiles as I brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

8:44 p.m. I put #3 back in bed, and she’s quiet. I collapse into my bed, pen a quick entry in my 5-year journal, plug in my phone, and turn out my light. I have a premonition that it’s going to be a long night…