8 a.m. Small bowl of oatmeal. Coffee with the tiniest amount of sugar and some milk. I make my child waffles and bacon and cry inside. Applaud myself for not licking the syrup off the counter.
10:30 a.m. Handful of almonds. My husband is making the biggest breakfast I’ve ever seen which he will eat while complaining he never gains weight. Manage to walk through the kitchen without stabbing him. Again, applaud myself.
Noon Salad of greens, tomatoes, chickpeas, avocado, olive oil and jalapenos. I fix my son some chicken nuggets, carrots and pasta. Refrain from throwing nuggets atop the salad. Wonder where I get my iron will.
3 p.m. It’s hours until dinner. I’m starving. I eat an apple and watch my husband eat his second meal of the day – more hotdogs than any human should consume in one sitting. Tell him that just because he’s skinny doesn’t mean he should shovel garbage in his mouth-hole all day long. Feel superior.
6 p.m. Make dinner of Tilapia, broccoli and brown rice. Pour a delicious caper butter sauce on my husband and son’s plates. Look at my sad, undressed plate and frown. Decide that if there is a God, he’s definitely a man because no omniscient female being would forget to remove the calories from butter and cake.
Spend the next two hours alternating between nursing and trying to tire out my night owl toddler.
8 p.m. Nurse infant to sleep. Attempt to put toddler down. He demands a nighttime story. I read one. He gets excited and screams, “Yay mommy!” Infant now awake.
8:30 p.m. Nurse infant once again while remembering a conversation about how you are not supposed to nurse your infant to bed, lest they become dependent on the boob to fall asleep. Sigh loudly.
9 p.m. Toddler still talking to himself. Infant crying in her crib, as I’ve made a last minute decision to start Ferberizing her – at 7 months. Not sure it’s working.
9:30 p.m. Google “calories in a glass of wine.” Decide to pour myself a half glass.
9:45 p.m. Toddler still awake. Decide I’ve earned the other half glass. Take a sip and read him another story.
10 p.m. Both kids asleep. I look in the mirror and realize that I look more tired than I have ever been. Also realize that I have no plans for the next few months, and will never enter a bikini contest in my life. Pour myself another glass of wine. Grab bag of Goldfish crackers.
10:30 p.m. Google, “how many calories in 2 1/2 glasses of wine and a bag of Goldfish crackers?”
(photo: Getty Images)