What Did You Do Yesterday?

I’ve started listening to podcast What Did You Do Yesterday? It’s funny, but it’s co-hosted by David O’Doherty so how could it not be hilarious. In it, guests are asked simply what they did yesterday. From the moment they woke, what they ate, read, played, did. The only rule is that they cannot mention another day that wasn’t yesterday. Most of the guests so far have come from the friend group of the hosts and because the hosts are comedians, most of their friends are comedians. Apart from being entertaining, it has the surprising effect of making me feel, as I listen, like a really productive member of society. And I don't feel like a very productive person, usually. My inner monologue most days goes something like this “I can’t believe you gave the kids sugar free Shreddies instead of making them porridge from scratch” or “Wow! You got the kids to school on time, go you!” quickly followed by “Your job is literally to get them to school on time, are we congratulating ourselves on doing the bare minimum?” When watching the latest Bridget Jones movie, I thought the scene of her dropping the kids to school while still dressed in pyjamas was a welcome, relatable depiction of parenting…until I remembered she was grieving her husband and the whole point of that scene was to show that she wasn’t coping.

But no more! What Did You Do Yesterday has cured me of my negative self talk! Because listening to the guests on this podcast whose days mostly go like this:

“I got up at ten, ate some burnt toast because that’s the setting the toaster is on and I’ve never changed it. Thought about going for a run but didn’t. Got into a Twitter fight. Looked out the window. Ate a plain yogurt for lunch then had a nap”,

I feel like I should be a guest on Diary of a CEO. I have lived 100 lives by the time they get going on their day around 4pm and I’m starting to think yes, I would actually like a round of applause from the general public for getting two kids up, dressed, fed and to school - timed perfectly to fit the weirdly specifically window of 6 minutes that the school doors open…even if I’m not, at that exact time, wearing a bra.

As you listen, you can’t help think: what did I do yesterday? And one day, I wrote it down. From a random day in March:

6:30am: I woke with my alarm and snoozed it. The 3 year old was in bed beside me. She comes in every night and I never hear her come in but I love waking up to her. About once a month, she’ll have slept through in her own bed and it terrifies me, wondering “Is that it? Have we had the last night of sharing our bed with a toddler and we didn’t even realise? Is she a big girl in her big bed now?”. I cannot even be in the same room if the Bluey “Sleepytime” episode is playing because it is too upsetting. I once wandered into the kitchen to the scene of my husband, sitting on the floor with both kids on his knee watching Sleepytime on his phone while he wept.

If you've seen it, you know what I’m talking about and if you haven't seen it, you should watch it because it is only 8 minutes long and for a very long time, was the highest rated episode of any TV programme on IMDb.

6:50: I got up, showered, put on coffee, put on a wash, made the kids’ breakfast, woke them up, made their lunches, emptied the dishwasher, told the 5 year old to brush her teeth and put on her socks . I washed her face, took a picture of her in her St Patrick’s day clothes my parents brought over and sent her off, walking to school with my dad (08:15). I finished cleaning the kitchen, moved the laundry along (emptied the dryer, moved the clothes on the clothes horse to the dryer, hung out the now finished wash on the clothes horse). I got clothes out for the 3 year old right as my Dad was walking back in the door (8:45) and handing them to him, said “Oh hi, could you dress the 3 year old?”. While he was doing that, I carried out my own ablutions, then did the 3 year old’s hair, teeth, face and checked my email quickly to see if it was OK with the 5 year old’s school that my Dad was collecting today. The secretary had already replied “I met him this morning. Very sweet.”

For breakfast, the kids had toast with butter, yoghurt and fruit salad (grapes, pomegranate seeds, blueberries, watermelon). Dad and I had the fruit salad with protein yogurt, granola, flax seeds and chia seeds.

Lunch most days is a deconstructed sandwich divided across the compartments of a plastic bento box and today was no different. In one corner, sourdough bread with Kerrygold butter, in another corner, mashed avocado, in another, Babybel, and in the last - nachos left over from last night's Mexican dinner. Snack: watermelon, pita crackers and a cheese stick.

09:00: Dad joined us for the walk to playschool and after dropping the 3 year old off (09:15), we parted ways because I had a doctor’s appointment.

“Will you know your way home?”, I asked him.

“Sure I can't go wrong with the numbers on the streets”, he replied.

I walked to my doctor where I had a 9:30am appointment for round one of the HPV vaccine only to realise, as I arrived at the closed surgery, that the appointment was in their Eastside location. I flagged a taxi and called them to say I'd be 15 mins late, could I still come? I did the New York Times games (Wordle and Connections) on the way). In the doctor’s waiting room (09:45), I finished my book and tried to do the New York Times Mini-Crossword but devastatingly, realised I'd already done it (just after midnight, with my Mam). After 45 minutes waiting (10:30), I told reception I'd have to reschedule and they said, “He's just finished with a patient now, you can jump in”.

It was the world's quickest doctor's appointment. So quick that he didn't close the door, was already prepping the needle as I walked in and with no greeting, asked only: “Which arm?”. As I was wrangling my left arm free from my top, I felt the need to confirm, “It's HPV right?”. “Yes it is”, he said as he jabbed it in my left arm and off I went.

10:30: I hailed a cab outside to my 10:45am physio appointment. Pelvic floor physio and though I didn't have the thumb up the bum today, I was anticipating the greater shame of having to say “Hi, I know I haven't been here since Christmas. And I also haven’t done my exercises since then either”. What I definitely wasn’t going to say was that I hadn’t really been doing them before Christmas either. But I was feeling optimistic. I will definitely do them from now on even though past performance has suggested that I won't.

The physio greeted me with very intense eye contact and a heartfelt “It's really nice to see you again, Aisling”. It seemed nice and felt genuine but given the suspiciously perfect pronunciation of my name and also that it is a nationwide chain of physios, I suspect the whole scene was taken straight out of a corporate handbook.

I was left to do my exercises on a bench and when you give these things the time they deserve, they are so relaxing and I'd almost say, enjoyable. Racing through them on the floor of my bedroom while a 3 year old climbs on my back/crawls under me/tries to copy me…cute as it sounds, is not enjoyable. “What’s this exercise? You're not moving”, the 5 year old will ask, interrupting my internal count of my (also internal) kegels.

The patient and physio at the table next to me were speaking Chinese and I wished I was a part of their conversation because they were having a right ol’ laugh, whatever they were saying. I did pick up the occasional English word - “loser” and “main character”. I hope they're not talking about me.

The session ends as it always does - sitting on a heatpack. I took out my phone to write for 10 minutes while my pelvic area enjoyed increasing heat. I made an appointment for the same time next week as I left and took one of the free sweets on the desk on the way out.

I took very few photos this day but somehow, this is one

11:45: I hailed a taxi and went to collect the 3 year old from playschool at 12. We walked (her in a stroller) to her 12:30 class in the Museum of Natural History. Parents attend also and today's lesson was on ‘Tails and Whiskers’. I always learn something new in this class (even though it is for 3 year olds) but I got nothing new for you on Tails and Whiskers, I’m afraid.

2pm: We left for home and I gave her a bag of popcorn to snack on. On the walk to the museum and back, I sent a couple of voicenotes to David (he is in New Orleans for work) on my day and exchanged voicenotes with friends (mostly on the HPV vaccine).

Mam and Dad arrived the day before yesterday (KLAXON! for mentioning the day before yesterday) but brought such a measly amount of Irish treats (Four medium size Wispas. I didn't know they made Wispas that size. Are we on a diet or what?) that I stopped into Morton Williams on the way home to pick up some Irish snacks (out of date raspberry Mini Rolls that tasted fine and Caramel Nibbles).

2:30: The 5 year old was on a half day (Dad collected her at 11:40) because there are parent teacher meetings and I had the 2:30 slot, across Zoom. I was still in the elevator of our building when it started so asked her teacher to “give me one minute” while I sprinted down our 30m long corridor, pushing a 99 per centile 3 year old in a stroller she is almost certainly too big for (if I bothered to look up the weight and height restrictions). I ran into the apartment, dumped the 3 year old on my parents and went into my bedroom to unmute the Zoom call and begin. But of course I didn’t have to unmute the call because apparently I’d never muted it in the first place so the teacher had heard every puff and pant and curtly delivered instruction that had got us to this point.

Anyway.

He told me that she is the funniest kid he ever taught and when David later asked me, how is her reading? Her writing? Her social and emotional development? I said “Emmm sorry, I don't know if you heard me? He said she is the funniest kid he ever taught. Obviously we spent the next 15 minutes trading stories on funny things she has said and done”.

2:45: I joined everyone in the sitting room and put on the kettle for a cup of tea and the Irish-treats-bought-on-Broadway, which aren’t actually Irish treats at all but English treats in royal Cadbury purple.

3:15: We put on Sonic the Hedgehog 2 and all 5 of us watched it. Jim Carey’s character, Dr. Robotnik, gets stuck on Planet Mushroom and refers to it in frustration as “This piece of shiitake planet” and I don't think my mother has ever laughed at a line so much. I fell asleep about an hour in and when I was woken towards the end by the kids who were bored, my parents were asleep too.

5pm: I played football in the corridor with the eldest while the youngest did Bluey jigsaws inside with Granny.

5:30: I started on dinner. Made pizza with the kids, ordered lasagne for the adults.

Lasagne for the adults

6:10: We all sat down to dinner and afterwards, (7:45) I put the kids to bed while also doing the laundry. Dad read them a story and I (8:10) nipped off to my room with my laptop to write.

Was it a good day? (They always ask this on the pod). Yes, it was an excellent day. A lovely spring day. I got two medical appointments out of the way. Kids are confident and happy. I had a nice dinner with family. Lots of tea and chats. An afternoon nap. What more could you want?