Today was one of those days that I just wanted to turn back time. Turn back time to a place in time where I didn't have any responsibilities. To a time where I could sleep in as late as I wanted and eat what I wanted, drink whatever I wanted and not have to reply to anyone else's requests or whinning.
Instead, I got up at 6:30, got the kids ready for daycare, fed them breakfast and was headed out the door by 7:25 to drop them off at daycare and head into work. When I returned home nine hours later, I used the remainder of my day mowing the lawn, making two different dishes for dinner to pacify the ones who like Chinese and those who wanted plain old American tonight. I mowed the lawn, cleaned up the kitchen, folded three baskets of laundry, put two loads of laundry in the washer and dryer to be left for tomorrow's folding duties. I made tater-tots for a bedtime snack, filled two sippy cups with milk and turned on a movie to give myself an hour of quiet time to myself. All this in a span of 14 hours. This is my day today... this is typical of everyday.
I await my sweet sweet weekend, which is packed full of overnight guests for the girls, birthday parties for sweet little friends, babysitting infants and maybe one morning of sleeping in past seven. And while I'm not complaining of my jammed pack weekend, I do yearn for one weekend from the past where I have nothing planned, no one to feel I have to entertain or cook for. I yearn for a weekend that entails drinking sweet lemonade with a s midge of Vodka spilled on top, the rim laced with lick-able sugar to cut the bitterness. I yearn for clean sheets where I can sleep a full ten or even twelve hours, only to awake slowly and finally rise out of bed when I decide I'm ready to face the day. I yearn to eat warm croissants with too much butter lathered a top, then ice cream, then pizza... not caring that the combination is both irrational and unhealthy to begin my day and call it breakfast. However, I know that my day will begin with the left overs on the kids plates, as I never put myself into the equation when making breakfast. If I was an avid coffee drinker, I would begin with a hot tall mocha latte, but even that seems to be a task these days that I'd rather bow out of out of sheer laziness... or better put, sheer tiredness....
I am whining. I admit it and take full responsibility for it. However, in the end.... for years I yearned for exactly where I sit today; a house full of chaos and sticky fingers, sweet baby hands stroking my cheek in the middle of the night when one can't sleep, hugs and kisses at my arrival home after a long day at work.
Even in my darkest days... I can sit back and think, "today may be a lemonade day..."
She sat and watched an ant traipse across the counter, wondering silently to herself... "I wonder where he came from?" Perhaps a little friend from outside that migrated in from when one of the children ran through the open door for the hundreth time that day. Or could this new little pet reside inside her kitchen on a regular basis? Perhaps...
Ever since her childhood, Josie had been known to hide a plethera of items in her long dark walk in closet in order to pass Saturday morning inspections by her mother before being allowed to run outside to enjoy the rest of her day. It is no surprise that in her adult life, cleaning is not a high priority on her list of things to do throughout the day. However, with three young children, she finds that if she lets things go to long, her house can become a chaotic clutter of candy wrappers and juice boxes.
Her newest invention has been the super deep clean, where she hauls in the large garage garbage can and just starts dumping for the day or the week, whatever time frame it happens to land on.
Since her husband moved out, Josie had begun to deep clean with fury... a sort of purging of the soul so to say. It was amazing just how much shit they had accumulated in their 19 years together and how good it felt to throw out all the miscellaneous broken crap that her former husband had insisted on keeping, "just in case..."
How many plastic tops to three rubber-maid bowls did they really need? Ah.... only three please... Did they really need the token waffle maker that every newly married couple acquires in the slew of wedding gifts,but never uses? No thank you. As her children grew she realized that they could finally throw out a couple dozen plastic to go cups she had stowed away by various fast food excursions, they were old enough to be trusted with a plain glass juice cup. How refreshing it felt.... how grow up she felt...
For ten years she had itty bitty hands that couldn't manage to keep away from picture frames, candles etc. And so her counter tops remained bare for the most part, no sweet knicknacks were sitting out on her table tops.
Recently, she had felt adventurous and bought some black candle holders at a garage sale for a dollar and even christened them with brand new cream vanilla scented candles in her living room. She now felt like flippin Martha Stewart! How she-she poo poo she felt... her house was beginning to feel like a home and each paycheck she managed to buy a little something to introduce to the mix. Whether it was a black and white floral picture to hang on the wall she found at a local garage sale, or a sale priced basket to hold the kids picture books. Somehow these things made her want to keep her house tidy... somehow she had discovered that keeping her house clean, no matter how cumbersome and time consuming, was in a way, thanking her home for keeping her family warm and safe from the sometimes cold and bitter world outside.
I await my sweet sweet weekend, which is packed full of overnight guests for the girls, birthday parties for sweet little friends, babysitting infants and maybe one morning of sleeping in past seven. And while I'm not complaining of my jammed pack weekend, I do yearn for one weekend from the past where I have nothing planned, no one to feel I have to entertain or cook for. I yearn for a weekend that entails drinking sweet lemonade with a s midge of Vodka spilled on top, the rim laced with lick-able sugar to cut the bitterness. I yearn for clean sheets where I can sleep a full ten or even twelve hours, only to awake slowly and finally rise out of bed when I decide I'm ready to face the day. I yearn to eat warm croissants with too much butter lathered a top, then ice cream, then pizza... not caring that the combination is both irrational and unhealthy to begin my day and call it breakfast. However, I know that my day will begin with the left overs on the kids plates, as I never put myself into the equation when making breakfast. If I was an avid coffee drinker, I would begin with a hot tall mocha latte, but even that seems to be a task these days that I'd rather bow out of out of sheer laziness... or better put, sheer tiredness....
