My husband (“Bless his heart”) sometimes calls/texts/emails me from work to ask me to do something, or call someone about something or other. Normal husband and wife stuff, really. But when you’re home on maternity leave with an unpredictable, not-yet-on-a-schedule newborn, something as simple as “make an appointment for the exterminator,” or “call that business connection I hooked up for you” becomes an impossible task.

Case in point: Here I sit, typing this with one hand, and holding a pacifier in this fussy babe’s mouth with the other hand, while I use my right foot to rock the carseat she’s pseudo-napping in. That leaves me one foot left to, I don’t know, tap dance.

So here goes. Here’s a glimpse into what it’s really like to be home with a newborn. I warn you, it’s a long post, but then again, anyone who’s ever done this parenting shtick will understand why. And if one more person says, “You should nap when she naps!” I’m going to go postal on that motherfucker.

8am-noon: This time frame consists of me attempting to take a shower 47 times. But every time, as soon as my big toe hits the tile, baby starts crying. And so I step back out to soothe her, try again, and we do this until I give up, remembering that no one is going to see me today anyway. In fact, there’s probably a better chance of a zombiepocalypse than of me being able to get out of this house looking and feeling presentable. So with one leg shaved, I throw on yoga pants and slap on some deodorant. Ta-da!

Noon: Baby starts to whimper, making that familiar motion. You know, the one that says “I’m going to eat my fist, or the first thing that happens to fly by my face… maybe a mosquito, or a dust mite… but I’ll keep turning my face and opening my mouth until you whip that boob out and get the milk party started.” I halt. I was on my way to the kitchen to make myself lunch, but baby comes first.

12:30pm: Baby’s fed. She (loudly) pooped through the last fifteen minutes of it, so now I’m going to change her. Aw, she has hiccups. Isn’t that cute!

12:33pm: Why. Is. This. Baby. Flailing. Around. On. The. Changing. Table. AAGGGH — she just peed as I was swapping out the dirty diaper for a clean one! Now I have to change her… and the changing pad… She’s lucky she’s cute.