Any way...me and my ducks were all ready to go last night for today....I went down my list at 6:00 pm:
* clean clothes laid out (and back up because my kid pulled the water bed trick at school)
* lunches made and in fridge sans PB....apparently A LOT of kids have allergies...
* homework done, planners signed
* Valentine's filled out and done for each kiddo
* dinner on table with minimal bitching about menu choice
And I even had time to enjoy a good read with the Shark and some kids on some Magic bus before turning in with the Silver Hammer and his Max the Minnow book...good read by the way with awesome googly eyeballs....
Anyway-then this morning at 6:30 am a wrench was thrown in the form of the forgotten dry cleaning I had agreed to take, the 30 minute shower I took because I had to shave my legs to the knees...only to try on 2 pairs of pants and finally decide on a dress that falls to my ankles...but that was AFTER I ran out to the bus in torn pj pants I jacked from my step dad when pregnant with Max and a fleece shirt I stole from my husband on the way out the door because it was baggy enough to hide the fact I hadn't quite put on the 18 hour bra yet and as to not horrify, blind and scar the other children at the bus stop....or embarrass Charlotte, but that's at the very bottom because somehow, someway I manage to most of the time....and it isn't always intentional...
So following a 20 minute wait and argument with the cleaners about how neurotic it sounds, but yes its true my husband wants extra starch and stiff creases in ALL his shirts and pants....I was off again to face the 2nd day of school and the inevitable kung fu death grip of the neck......granted its terribly unfair and delusional to think he would handle it like a trooper....but some part of me held out hope he'd take it like a champ and roll with the punches....only all he managed to do was deal a death defying punch to my heart.
Which was only further complicated by the slick fast one I pulled when releasing him with his class on the playground and ducking for cover while making a beeline for the gate....Am I horrible parent that I am SO THANKFUL I managed to get in the car and drive away without hearing his screams???
Maybe I am because the next thing you know I was screaming FUCK at the top of my lungs when I got caught by the train on TC Jester.....another reason to avoid living in the Washington Corridor....besides the glaringly apparent I can't afford a house in the Heights....
To make it to work where my stack of shit to do and haven't gotten to has grown in size...at least 5 times since I left late last night.....and now I'm stuck thinking about the big to-do list I have to start on for not only work, but more crap at home....and I wonder to myself will I ever get a breather...a break...a chance to just sit and enjoy a moment to myself....and then I resolve to the fact that those moments are the ones I spend on the porcelain throne or lying to my husband and telling him I took 30 minutes in the shower because I shaved my legs...only to be caught and called Chewbacca in bed...or when I drive to work those last 10 minutes alone and can tune up the volume on whatever jam I need to get me in the groove for that morning...
So I can blow those ducks away all in a row, and make sure I tackle another day....but what do I do when the day has already gotten away from me? This seems to be that piss poor management of time I have an intsy bitty issue with.....Do I yell at the kids who cannot feed, dress or take themselves to school when they can't even reach the peddles? Do I scream and bitch out the husband to take his own goddamn dry cleaning when I know he's got to be at work at 5 am to open and Shelton's doesn't open until 7? Do I yell at the cat because he needs to scoop his own litter box?
Hell, if I could juggle all those arguments I would, but the fact still remains I am the mom, I am the female who whether he likes to admit it or not, wears the imaginary pants of the home....I let him think he does because its easier than arguing round and round that he wouldn't survive one day in my shoes or juggle all that I do even if I do it rather poorly....and messy...and with no bras and scraggly hair...
And I am reminded even more of this as we move closer and closer to Valentine's Day which means jack squat when you have kids especially a toddler...except that instead of the $9 bottle of wine, he swings for the $20 and a package of Oreos.....and he agrees to get them ready for bed...which is translation for no baths, mismatched pj bottoms and her hair stuck up in a failed attempt at a braid...or bun? I cannot ever tell with him...
Compound that by the wedding anniversary we have looming in March and I stare in wonderment at my screen as I type this because I cannot believe he put up with my bullshit as long as he has...and now for almost another year which counts exponentially more than the previous 3.5 in sin because he's legally bound and cannot escape without the mess and stinging of paperwork, courts and me driving away in the Passat...it's only fair because I look better behind the wheel.....
So I saw this when I got to work from my step dad and had to chuckle....because I wonder if this is the "magic", if this is the something that makes our survival successful...
or it could be the lack of sleep and wet beds that make us too goddamn tired to do anything but surrender to this life....but damn if we don't share a hell of a lot of laughs, tears and fights....while laying on our brand new rubber sheets drinking $20 straight from the bottle, surrounded my Oreo crumbs....and I smile because I know I cannot be that bad a wife, that bad a mom, that bad a duck rower liner upper thing if someone is willing to put up with ALL that...and still share the cream filling....
So what are you doing for that special ovary in your life this highly overated V-day?
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