Every parent will tell you that weekdays are crazy. By crazy I mean very hectic, mechanical, boring in a way & repetitive. Kind of like ‘Groundhog Day’.

When I was a child, a concept of having only seven days a week that kept repeating itself was beyond my understanding. At the age of 5, I found this to be less than the exciting turn of events. How on earth the same activity could be performed day after day, week after week and month after month. That was too much for my little head.

As a kid, I knew I didn’t want to have a boring life, so I decided that I’d never go to work from 9-5 and will never work in the office.

After all, what can be less predictable than being in the film business, right?

Now, being a little bit more grown up (I’m more than 5, and I’m allowed to use the Internet whenever I want), I have to do the same what my mom was doing when I was 5. I keep repeating my chores every single day and every single day they look more or less the same.

Every day, or instead I should say every school day (I believe that a half term has been invented for parents only so they can rest and regenerate for a week), we wake up around 6 am. Little O. wakes up way too early ‘cos he is up often at 6 am. His primal morning activity is to wake me up as soon as possible. Not an easy task taking into consideration that I love my morning sleep. I can stay up late (well, until 11 pm as I’m not in my twenties anymore) but in the morning I love my lay-ins.

This morning he was building a spaceship under his bed and was trying to encourage me to check out his construction. How could I have possibly done that if I wasn’t able to open my eyes?

Anyway, I finally got out of bed just before 7 am thinking that I must be crazy and wouldn’t make it on time to school.

However, I have discovered a new skill set in me, which I just called: “getting ready within 30 min.” I take a shower, get dressed, make a cup of coffee and breakfast for both of us, all in 30 min. I’m pretty surprised myself that I can be that quick. It never happened when I was married.

So, for five days a week, I’m in a hurry.

While O. is having his breakfast, I’m doing my hair and putting my make-up on. (I’m at that stage of my life that I can’t leave the house without my make-up on.)

He always tells me that “I’m the most beautiful mommy on earth.” and I love that and believe him, but there is constant pressure in that sentence. So I need to stay the most beautiful mommy for as long as I can and wearing make-up is a part of this. 

We need to be out of the door at 8.10 am the latest. We either walk to school or take a bus. However, to keep in good shape we walk a few stops (or rather I walk & I push the little O. on his little scooter). Then we get on a bus and go to school.

To get the bus back home & be at home on time I need to be out of the school at 8.55. It’s not an easy task. (I run most of the time to get to the bus. You probably wonder why I don’t drive. Well, the traffic is pretty heavy and parking spots by O. school way too limited.)

After getting back home, I keep drinking my already cold coffee while working. I’m a very well organised person, so I have lists that have lists and that lists have some more lists. I’m sure you get the idea.

I’m out of the door at 12.40 pm to pick up the little O. from his school. After picking him up, we either have afternoon activities or some other plans.

I often wonder what Little O. is thinking. Does he find the routine boring or safe? Every day is the same, or at least it seems the same from my perspective. That goes my non-repetitive life out of the window, right?