Archive for the ‘weekend’ Tag
May 23 2011
Friday nights, at one point, were a chance to erase all of the weekly stress. Let your hair down, dance the night away. Throw back a few drinks with some great friends, or complete strangers, whatever the case may be. Good food, slightly belligerent conversation. It was staying up too late and enjoying every minute of it because Monday comes soon enough.
Those were the days. Or that’s what I’ve heard. Even before kids, I preferred quiet to clubs. But it’s the possibilities of what it can be. And I’m pretty sure what it can be is a lot better than how it was this past Friday night.
When I called my parents in a panic.
“Buzz kicked through the actual window in the boys’ room and I don’t know what to do!”
I can’t recall how high-pitched my voice was, but I’d be surprised if I wasn’t shrieking. And sobbing.
I suppose this is where I should grow my hair in a mullet and lose a couple teeth, since I now have plastic and duct tape adorning my window after spending Friday night with my dad trying to cover up the shattered hole as best we could since it was also supposed to thunderstorm that night. Did I mention the window is right above where Jedi sleeps? And with thunderstorms come high winds and rain, of course, so I had to move his sleeping position to the foot of the bed just to alleviate my paranoia over falling glass. And I feel like the most terrible parent because first Buzz runs halfway around the block with me chasing him like a fool and now he kicks a hole in a freaking window and I’m glad he didn’t get hurt but why can’t I just control my kid, for crying out loud?
Suffice to say, my Friday night did not erase any stress. I’m still waiting for that. Any time now.
April 25 2011
Our Sunday celebration consisted of a little of this:
And a little of this (his birthday isn’t actually until tomorrow, yearly post forthcoming):
August 09 2010
I would have gladly taken a getaway to New York City this past weekend.
But instead of a plush hotel bed all to myself, I was shoved to the edge of ours by small feet in the back after finally getting all 3 kids to sleep without assistance, which required more maneuvering and luck than I can adequately express. Instead of drinks and belly laughs past 2 a.m. with a circle of good friends that I could have so desperately used, I was hoping that no one would wake up crying or barfing. Instead of days spent taking in the sights and sounds of a bustling city, I spent those days as the only referee stuck within these walls listening to repetitive demands and high pitched screaming and nonstop bickering. Instead of feeling revitalized, I’ve just about lost my mind.
Instead of taking some well deserved time for myself away from it all like so many blog-minded women were able to enjoy this past weekend, I was stuck in the middle of it. I spent Thursday through Sunday parenting solo while J was out of town for work.
I’m used to being the main parent for the majority of the day. However, we have a routine. There are a number of tasks J helps with that I normally take for granted, such as bedtimes and teeth brushing and baths and corralling everyone for dinner. I did buckle down and ask my parents to just give me a break already, but still. 3 kids by myself for over 3 days is exhausting.
Someone got screwed in this deal.
That someone was me. Though the kids haven’t fared so well, either.
June 14 2010
Saturday afternoon, J suggested the bright idea of taking the kids to Chuck E. Cheese, a place we usually try to avoid as much as possible. Except this time, I said sure, sounds fun. Sounds fun? Clearly, neither of us were in our right minds.
I came home with a few alternate takes on their “where a kid can be a kid” slogan:
- Where a mom can lose a kid, and her last nerve.
- Where your 4yo can score higher than you at skeeball.
- Where a kid can be truly indecisive.
- Where a kid can be terrified of a pigtailed robotic chicken.
- Where it’s impossible to look cool drinking from a cup shaped like a crown.
- Where you eat your already non-appetizing pizza while staring at a giant mouse.
- Where you wish you brought hand sanitizer.
- Where you realize how cute your own kids are compared to everybody else’s.
- Where they play music from KidzBop. Need I say more?
- Where random kids will follow you around, begging for tokens.
- Where your entire self-worth is based on how many tickets you can accumulate.
- Where a kid can be a kid, but the parents feel really, really old.
- Where a kid might, possibly, pee his pants.
- Where a kid can be a screaming wild animal let loose out of it’s cage.
- Where it might be a good idea to keep a kid on a leash.
- Where they should really serve alcohol.
- Where a kid can spend 4 hours playing and racking up tickets to win some foam rocket piece of crap that was destroyed within 5 minutes of being home.
The things we, as parents, go through with a smile on our face. The kids had a good time, though, which is what counts. That’s what I’m supposed to say, right?
January 11 2010
Sunday is laundry day. If I don’t have a specific day set aside for this chore, it might never get done. I refrain from doing laundry during the week, because it’s better if someone else is here to distract the kids while I carefully fold and hang articles away.
It’s a nice thought, I suppose. One that is rarely seen to fruition thanks to a certain 3 year old.
He watches as I carry in a load of freshly cleaned clothes, scented with floral fabric softener. His face brightens as he anticipates what’s to come. Down his body falls on the mattress, legs dangling over the edge, his smile like a target. I hesitate, knowing the mess he’ll make. He looks so hopeful, though. I bury him in still warm material, his laughter contagious. From clean socks and underwear, he peeks out a thankful, happy eye.
Sure enough, he arises out of the pile with a burst: dress shirts in one corner, pants on the floor. It’s a game he can’t get enough of. The obsessive compulsive in me, envisioning smudges and wrinkles and even more work, is urging him to stop. But I resist.
Wrinkles are temporary.
In a former life, I was proud to have an ordered house. It’s safe to say, clean isn’t what it used to be. Drawers are overstuffed, crumbs magically multiply, toys are everywhere, laundry is never carefully folded. It’s a version that I’m still learning to accept, to enjoy. I’m not there yet, but it’s getting better.
I'm Crystal. A 30-something mom to 3 young kids living in the Midwest USA. When I'm not chasing my children, I'm a freelance writer and web designer. I like to tell stories from our days and share what we enjoy...
