Yes it’s True, We’re Just Like You!

A day in the life of a lesbian, who just happens to be a mom, wife, and employee.

5:00 a.m. – The alarm wails from the dresser.
5:15 a.m. – The baby fusses in the monitor.
5:20 a.m. – Diaper change.
5:30 a.m. – Let the dog out.
5:40 a.m. – Finally go pee while my wife nurses the baby.
6:00 a.m. – Down two cups of coffee, kiss the wife as she runs out the door, and prepare my lunch.

Fast forward to 8:00 a.m. where the baby is dressed, has been fed a bottle, I am dressed, sporting a very rushed makeup job, and we are driving to the sitter’s house with a packed diaper bag, extra bottles, and my brain, which is sitting on the passenger seat beside me.

It’s busy season at the office, so by 10:30 a.m., I have spoken to 15 clients, handled four scheduling discrepancies, responded to a handful of emails, and derailed my boss from a potential crisis.

12:45 p.m. – Lunch is actually more like grazing as I mull over unedited documents.
2:30 p.m. – Place a laundry list of product orders.
5:00 p.m. – Breathe a sigh of relief and get the hell out of there.
5:12 p.m. – Rush hour traffic.

The very notion of seeing my baby boy at 5:45 p.m. is literally not able to be explained. Warmth and joy, people. Warmth and joy.

6:00 p.m. – Dinner with my wife. Compare notes of our work day. Feed the baby his green beans, which he manages to get everywhere.
6:25 p.m. – Feed dog.
6:35 p.m. – Check email, Facebook, other brain-sucks.
7:00 p.m. – Baby bath time. Jammies.
8:20 p.m. – Tuck in baby boy.
8:30 p.m. – Wife and I are glued to the couch, feet up, yawning with bloodshot eyes.
8:35 p.m. Flip through the channels. Scoff at Miley. Bitch about the weather. Shut it off.

And by 9:00 p.m., I’ve dragged myself to the shower, let the dog out, and packed the diaper bag for the morning. By 9:30 p.m., my lovely wife and I are both in bed, ready to do it all over again tomorrow.

So, there you have it. A day in the life of a lesbian. I scratch my ass and pick up pennies. I love my family. I have to force myself to work out. Pretty ‘normal’ if you ask me.