Baby Mabel and I wake up in the big bedroom, formerly the living room. I change her diaper and open the door. The cat and dog stroll in and take their places on the changing table and bed, respectively.

Carrying the baby, I walk into three-year-old Harvey’s room, formerly the big bedroom. We find my husband and Harvey watching videos quietly. We all greet each other and the adults inquire about sleep quality and length. Mabel was up three times but slept til 8. Harvey was up once but slept til 6:30. My husband, Justin, and I cannot decide who had it worse. I suspect it was my husband due to the sleepily discarded PlayStation controller that tripped me outside of Harvey’s bedroom door.

Mabel goes into her vibrating chair as I make breakfast. My husband and I reach around each other and a large Moses basket on a rolling stand to get to the coffee. I dodge for the milk; he lunges for the butter knives. The Moses basket is uneffected.

Harvey jumps on the couch near Mabel’s vibrating chair so I pick her up and put her into the big bedroom for her nap. My husband tells Harvey, “No drumming,” so that the baby can fall asleep. The baby falls asleep.

Carefully, I remove first the dog then, more carefully, the cat who is louder and more pointed. They both lay down under the couch and on the recliner, respectively. My husband tells Harvey, “No drumming,” so that the baby stays asleep. The baby wakes up. Everyone freezes. The baby falls back to sleep.

Grandma arrives. Harvey and the dog jump and bark with excitement. The baby wakes up. I push Grandma and Harvey into his bedroom to jump on the bed and close the door behind them. Hoping to do some work, my husband slogs up to the bonus room, formerly the second bedroom but ornamented with a set of slippery stairs no preschooler would survive in the middle of the night in my opinion, which is the correct opinion.

I put the baby in a wrap and pace around the living room dodging the vibrating chair, the swinging chair, and the toddler-sized Papasan chair that nobody uses. The baby falls asleep. I put her down in the big bedroom.

Harvey and Grandma dash up the slippery stairs to the bonus room and play with the train table. Justin flees the bonus room and settles in the living room. I put my hand on Justin’s shoulder and squeeze it, briefly. Harvey and Grandma, dressed as a black cat and a unicorn, respectively, come to dance in the living room. My husband retreats to the kitchen. The dog is back in the big bedroom. I do not know where the cat is.

I use the one bathroom for the first time that day. As I use the one bathroom Harvey pounds on the door saying he needs to pee. Together we use the one bathroom and discuss what we are both doing in greater detail than I would like. I make Harvey wash his hands despite the fact that, “There no pee on them, mommy!”

The baby wakes up. Harvey and I leave the one bathroom. Harvey races up the slippery stairs to the bonus room where Grandma is waiting with the drum. The baby is now swearing at me in baby talk.

Justin withdraws to Harvey’s bedroom. I put the baby into a wrap and we take the dog for a walk. The baby swears at me until we get back to the house, then falls asleep. Inside, Harvey is drumming. Mabel stays asleep. I put Mabel down into her crib. Mabel wakes up. I put Mabel down into her Rock ‘n Play and rock her. Mabel chooses play and stays awake.

I sit on the recliner with Mabel. Mabel and I look at each other glassy-eyed. Harvey and Grandma want to dance in the living room. I don’t know where my husband is. I don’t dare look in the bonus room because I fear the slippery stairs. Harvey and Grandma go to the backyard with the dog.

I lay down on the big bed with Mabel and nurse her. The cat appears and screams at me. I pet the cat on the head while physically holding him back from the baby. His claws affectionately tear the flesh of my hand. I stifle back cries of pain so the baby won’t wake up. The cat bites me and I wail for my husband, which wakes the baby.

Justin removes the cat and the baby falls asleep and will remain asleep as long as I keep a nipple in her mouth. Hours pass. I don’t know where my son, mother, or husband are and I have no feeling in my right arm.

I remember a different small apartment from an emptier time. My husband and I are there, alone, slunk together on a raggedy couch watching movies until late and using the one bathroom one at a time. I kiss the baby. The baby wakes up.

Grandma announces that she’s leaving. I invite her to stay a little bit longer. She laughs at my killer joke. I assure her I’m serious. She looks at me through eyes that speak of a thousand sleepless nights 30 years past and squeezes my shoulder, briefly. She announces she is still leaving. I thank her and ask her where my husband is and she tells me he’s in the one bathroom.

I knock on the door of the one bathroom and ask my husband if he got any work done. He sighs from behind the door. Harvey pounds on the door and tells my husband he needs to pee. They both use the one bathroom.

I put Mabel in the swinging chair and she cries. I put her in the vibrating chair and she cries. I trip over the toddler-sized Papasan. I hate the toddler-sized Papasan. Harvey wants to dance in the living room. The cat is stalking me from the slippery stairs. The dog has been left in the backyard.

It’s nighttime and the children need to eat dinner and go to bed. They don’t, but then hours later they do. I fall asleep in the big bedroom next to the baby in her Rock ‘n Play. I don’t know where my husband is, but wherever it may be, I hope that he’s happy.