Ducky has just started grabbing at things that interest him.

First, the keyboard, I can hardly type without him editing for me.

The Dog lays down next to him on the floor. Usually, The Dog sniffs and licks at Ducky, and looks to us to see if she’s gotten too close to his face. This week, The Dog laid down, and Ducky reached over and started patting her on the head. She wasn’t sure what to do. She got really still and stared at me, keeping one eye on the baby.

Ducky caused his first “Clean up, Isle 4″ announcement on the P.A. at the grocery store yesterday. There’s a store going out of business, so I went up and down every isle looking for dry goods that we buy a lot of. Ducky started fussing while I was scanning the baby, so I had him on one hip. I looked for a bunch of jarred babyfood that I wasn’t going to cook myself, stuff like pureed meat and prunes.

The baby reached forward an d grabbed at a glass jar of pureed veal. I watched in slow motion as the jar fell to the linoleum and burst into a million pieces between my Sketchers. It was an odd combination of jagged glass and mushy meat. Ducky was very proud

Alright, so how do you Mommybloggers do this?

The baby is on my lap, dictating while I type. He likes the back button several times before I can hit submit, so here goes.

I”ve gone back to work, one morning a week. Having that weekly event has made the weeks fly by quickly. I blink, and it’s time to go teach again.

I’ll never be able to be one of those parents who can schedule her children. It’s nice to have a schedule for myself. Somewhere to go, someone to be. I get up way-before-dawn in the morning, it takes me three and a half hours to get from bed to the classroom.

The days of rolling out of bed are over. No more “get dressed and drive to work.” It is an odd feeling having one foot in both worlds, wearing both hats at the same time. I can’t take off one hat, to trade for the other.

The Teacher Hat is an easy hat to wear. Teaching is simple. Sit quietly and prepare the lesson, pack a bookbag full of supplies, make copies, get to work on time, welcome the students, and start class. As long as everything from last week is still in the bag this week, I’m ready to go. Instant, Portable Teacher. We call ourselves Freeway Flyers: Have bookbag, Will travel.

The Mommy Hat, guarantees that two-thirds of my weekly income goes to paying the babysitter for the time that I need to prepare for class, drive to class, teach, and get home. The Mommy Hat wants me to spend three hours in class talking about my baby. The Mommy Hat requires that I pump if I leave the baby for more than a few hours. The Mommy Hat, which won’t come off of my head, requires that I carry the breastpump, ice packs, empty bottles, tubing and other related supplies. Every-single-time-I-leave-the-baby.

Both hats are fighting for room on my head. I spend all week stressed out that I have lesson plans that need to get done. I’ll get to the lesson plans after I feed the baby. I’ll get to the lesson plans after I pump. I’ll pump after I drink some more water. I’ll drink some more water when the baby lets me have two free hands to pour from the pitcher. Maybe the baby will let me have two free hands after I nurse… It never ends.

I carry both hats on my head, and both bags on my shoulders. Two weeks ago, I got ready for work, laid out all of my clothes, packed both bags, set my alarm, and went to bed. I slept (for a minute), jumped out of bed and dressed, forgetting that my basic black work flats no longer fit. My Postpartum Hat dictates that even my shoes don’t fit. I didn’t have time for an entire outfit change, so I grabbed the only pair of black shoes that fit. A pair of heels from my past life (last year).

I thought it would be smart to grab a pair of slippers to wear after class. I knew my legs would be tired. I hadn’t worn heels in a year. Not smart enough.

I carried both bookbags, two bottles of water, and lunch, to and from my car. Two weeks later, my heels still hurt. Now my knee hurts from favoring one heel. I’m not sure which Hat to blame it on. Both Hats are hard to balance, and a little bit heavy.

That Guy I Married brought home some new rope toys for The Dog.

The Dog rejoiced and ran amuck in the apartment.

This evening, we sat down as a family to chat about our days, and as usuall, The Dog approached us, rope in mouth.

She walked up to THE BABY and tried to place the rope in HIS hands.

And now, I’m trying to blog about it as fast as possible. Ducky is in my lap and is reaching for the keyboard. He keeps hitting the back button before I can finish and click “Post.”

Everything is a monumental hurtle lately. I do mean Everything, with a capital E.

I can’t just ___________, first I have to _____, _____, _____, and then ______. When I finally do get to sit down and _______, I have to get up and _____, then ______. Or, shoot, there’s a problem, I have to fix ________….

Fill in the ________. Lately, this is every minute of every day.

It would be funny, if I had time to sit down and blog about it… but now I’ve got to go ______, before the babysitter gets back with the noisy Dog and noisy baby.