Weekdays (non-quarantined):
6-7 AM: Neutral.
7-7:15: Slight dread buildup. “Here we go again.”
7:15-7:45: Resigned optimism. “Everyone else is crabby but I’m going to be positive to start the day on a good note.”
7:45-8 AM: Dismay, the desire to hide in the bathroom. “How is it that we have been doing this roughly five days a week for the last five years and we still can’t get out the door without shouting and frustration and chaos? You all suck. Even you, the big old one they call ‘Dad.’”
8 AM-8:30 AM: Relief.
8:30 AM-3 PM: Forget kids exist.
3 PM- 4 PM: Bracing. “The quiet time is ending soon.”
4-4:30 PM: Fake it til you make it cheerfulness. “The kids are covered in marker and don’t want to talk to me but I’m going to see if I can get them to talk to me anyway and then probably give up.”
4:30-6 PM: A well deserved screentime break after a vigorous half hour of parenting.
6 PM-7:30 PM: Content irritation: dinner and conversation spiked with yelling at people to stop teasing the dog, pretending to care about a Roblox-related anecdote, etc.
7:30-8 PM: Diminishing patience.
8 PM-8:15 White hot rage.
8:15-8:30: Req’d bedtime wind-down story/songtime affection.
8:30-8:45: Tentative unclenching depending on who stays in bed.
8:30-10:30: Sudden nostalgic kids-asleep affection. “They’re good boys. They’re nice boys, and sweet. And happy. I love them so much.”
10:30-6 AM: Neutral.
End credits
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I straight up cackled reading this. Also, not sure why I'm laughing, because it's 100% true in my house too.
I just got back home from school drop-off. I want to add a clever comment but all I can think of is “I feel this so hard.”