Yesterday, oh yesterday. The kids are off school Friday and Monday for the holiday weekend. Now I’m not one of those awesome moms that gets excited when the kids are home on Fridays. Fridays are my day. They cramp my style, and I swear purposely try to piss me off. Yesterday is a great example.
It started off south, right out of the gate. Friday mornings are usually my time to clean. I try and do a debridement of the big chunks, so that we aren’t doing it over the weekend. I loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. I gave my “5 minute” warning to the kids. They have 5 minutes to gather all of their shit and take it downstairs. I don’t want a fidget toy or football left behind. My rule is if it’s here after the warning it’s garbage.
Well, you would have thought I asked them to scrub the floor Cinderella style. Now this got my blood boiling, they aren’t even supposed to be part of my Friday equation. They are lucky I let them sleep in. I turned up Alexa to moms pissed volume, and went to town. As I was picking up I found a pair of ankle weights. I strapped them on just to see what it felt like. I cleaned the entire house with them on and let me tell you, I feel it this morning. That may be a new thing.
During one of my trips downstairs with laundry I asked Brogan if he would be mowing the lawn. While playing some damn video game he pulls his headset off annoyed that I am still breathing, and informs me he will be mowing the neighbors yard but not ours. The neighbors yard is a paid gig while they are out of town, so that one is a no brainer. After I expressed my disappointment with some slew of words a mother probably shouldn’t say to her child, he reminded me that his hip is injured. For the love of all that is Holy, this kid is about to get taken apart like a rotisserie chicken. One day it’s his hip, the next it’s his ankle. Big expensive shoes, a new ankle brace and getting massages with the chiro gun (that I had to buy) from everyone in the family, still isn’t doing it. I call bullshit, this kid is playing us like a fiddle. He’s about to get a wake up call with deez nuts.
I got to the point where I put it in Gods hand because if I used mine he wouldn’t survive. I walked back upstairs and continued to clean. Of course now I’m wiping down the cabinets and scrubbing the floors out of sheer irritation. I look up above the closet and notice that Addison has moved in. She has abandoned her disaster of a room and decided to become a squatter above my closet. That little shit even decorated the wall. As I walked by she handed me her cereal bowl. You’ve got to be fricken kidding me. The kicker is she knows damn well Chuck nor I, are going up there. It would require getting on the counter, climbing on top of the fridge and then climbing up onto the pantry. At this point I was thinking at least it’s up high and no one can see her, unless they are really looking. I grabbed the cereal bowl and got her some water as requested. I am merely their bitch at this point.
I got into my freshly cleaned shower and got ready. I decided that a day out was well deserved. Plus the weather is changing just enough that I could wear a denim jacket and some fall earrings. Fall is my favorite season. I love sweater, jeans and jackets. On the way out the door there was a “hey mom can I come?” I laughed and said, “absolutely not”. They are cute, but not always the brightest.
I turned up the radio and enjoyed the ride up to Alpine. I hit the Salvation Army where I scored some shoes and a sweater vest. I have a photo shoot in November that is going to be straight out of the 50’s, so I’m always looking for things. I don’t ever go to Pinky’s Place, but I decided to swing in at my moms request. They didn’t have what she was looking for, but I got some big clip on earrings that will be perfect, and a Frank Sinatra album. Chuck loves Frank Sinatra, and I thought it looked cool. Maybe I’ll frame it, or maybe it’ll get sat behind something on a shelf for awhile. Either way it’s the thought that counts. I proceed down two road to Goodwill. This is where I think I was starting to get hungry. I could feel my patience thinning. People were irritating me, and there was this annoying constant beep. I kept looking around to see where it was coming from, but I was at a loss. I so badly wanted to scream, “am I the only one that fucking hears that?” But instead my internal voice said, “don’t be a dick, just leave”. That internal voice repeated itself at Burlington and Hobby Lobby. While I was standing at Home Goods with my new fall tablecloth and place mats I decided I best get something to eat. I had to drive home yet, and it was close to 5 o’clock traffic. Hangry and slightly inconvenienced is how bad things happen. I grabbed a bag of chocolate macaroons and decided that I deserved them for not being the dick that I felt like.
As I pulled in the driveway I had a sense of relief. Chuck was home. I had already told him all about the kids, so he knew I was having a day. As I walked up the front steps I had happy little thoughts about them getting their asses handed to them by dad. I opened the door and came upstairs. The house looked like a tropical storm had hit. What in the actual hell? When I left it was sparkling. Now if I bust my ass like that, it sure as shit better look like that when Chuck gets home. He needs to physically appreciate my efforts. After he sees it, I don’t care. I walked past tennis shoes, wrappers from fruit gushers and granola bars. I found Addison. I asked her where dad was. She told me he was downstairs. I imagined a good talking to was happening. The big chunk of the conversation being how disrespecting mom is not acceptable, and how he dropped the ball today. As I turned the corner of the basement I saw the opposite. There Chuck was laying on the beanbag like a little kid, his headset on and playing a damn video game with Brogan. I wonder how much one bedroom apartments are going for nowadays?
That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the night. I got snarky, and Chuck got defensive. Yes he works hard, and no I wasn’t pissed he was relaxing. I was disappointed that he didn’t have my back. He always has my back. So what we learned today was it’s never good to mix a tired husband on a Friday, with a wife that is hangry, feeling disrespected and been stewing about it all day.
Marriage is hard. If someone says it’s not they are lying. What’s important is to recognize the disconnect, accept your part in it, and sometimes just agree to disagree. We don’t need to beat a dead horse every time we don’t see eye to eye. One should also not spit in the others coffee the next morning, even if it’s tempting.