Lovelies, today's "A Day in the Life Of..." post comes from Brigid, "Hi! I’m Brigid, wife to Xavier and mom to Benicio, who is almost 1. We live in Los Angeles, where I work full-time for a nonprofit, and my husband is a rockin’ stay-at-home dad. I blog when I can steal a few minutes over at The Conference Womb. Below is a day in my life – Tuesday, November 4, 2014, to be exact."
These are all times that I wake up to nurse my son back to sleep. No, I am not exaggerating. Yes, I am very tired. We co-sleep, though, so it could be worse. I am not willing to let my son cry it out, but yes, eventually something will have to give. When my son falls back asleep after the 6:30 a.m. feeding, I get out of bed and shower. Then I make breakfast:
Two soft-boiled eggs and black tea with honey. Side note: Benicio thinks this mug is hilarious, so now it always makes me think of his giggle. I also feed the rabbit. She is Poppy, a 7ish-year-old mini lop (we think) that we adopted almost two years ago. She is cantankerous but cute, so she lives.
My son dropped his very adorable and almost brand new toothbrush in the toilet the night before, so I attempt to sanitize it by boiling it. It was a wise decision that went really well for us, as you can see:
I arrive at 8:30ish. That means 8:45. I work in a secure building with its own police force (not joking), so I have to pass through the metal detectors and such and do not try to take a photo. Then I arrive to my very tidy office.
Next up I unleash my inner snob and make coffee in my French press rather than the office-provided Keurig. I hate the taste of the coffee from those little pods, and if I am going to get cancer from anything, it will not be the BPA in the K-cups. I drink it black and hot from the mug I painted with my husband on a silly six-monthiversary date:
Then I work. Work work work. This day, that mainly means checking and rechecking the eleventy billion forms required for this grant for completeness and errors. It also means harassing coworkers for the data I need. Everyone loves/hates the grant person. At 11:00 a.m., I pump. All the offices have a large window that faces into the cubicle area, so I am the only person with a very stylish curtain for privacy.
Black bean-poblano-sweet potato soup in the world’s largest mug. I eat it with a flimsy plastic spoon because someone keeps stealing my ultra-expensive IKEA silverware from the office kitchen. More working while I eat. I’m tired. I’m ready to go home. I take this racy selfie: