“Raising kids is part joy and part guerilla warfare.”— Ed Asner
5:00 AM Even though there is no where to be and zero reason at all… I am up. Because old habits die hard.
10:32 AM We take a trip to Home Depot. 1/4th of my waking hours seem to be spent here lately. This is not ok.
11:48 AM We are in the checkout line. Finally. Of course, there are two open for every one hundredth customer. I’m pretty sure I have aged twenty years in an hour and six minutes. I ponder how one store can house so many things. There are gadgets for gadgets. This place is like Toys R Us for grown men. They are in heaven. It’s astonishing.
11:49 AM An older gentleman taps my husband on the shoulder. He tells him he has made a wrong turn somewhere. When my husband looks confused he points to me and says that I look like I belong in a department store— not this place. He asks how he got me in here. My husband smiles and tells the gentleman he is lucky.
11:50 AM I have made a new friend. His wife died recently. He wants to know what we are working on, I tell him. He says to enjoy it because life is short. It goes by fast. I tell him I know. The last hour and six minutes have practically been an eternity.
12:07 PM We are in the car. My husband tells me he liked the man. He thinks he would make a decent stand in grandfather for our kids. I agree. He says he thought of asking him if he’d like to see “this pretty lady” more often. I explain that sounds like a proposition. An indecent one. And that any illusions I’ve held of an indecent proposal do not occur in Home Depot…
The remainder of the day is so amazing I can’t even remember the rest of it. :)
Today we are lazy. We read. They draw. There’s a fair amount of chess playing. Bickering is minimal.
Is this how summer is going to go?
Surely, this can’t be how summer is going to go.
I should probably plan something for tomorrow…
8:31 AM Phone call number one: What are you doing?
I thought you were taking time off…
Me: Oh, I am. I’m not working that much…just a bit here and there.
8:34 AM Text number one: What are you doing?
I thought you were taking time off.
Me. I am.
Do you want to get together?
Me: Yes. In a little bit. I just have to finish this one thing.
1:52 PM Five hours, twelve texts, and three phone calls later I realize that maybe my definition of taking time off differs from everyone else’s. Whoops.
8:15 PM We take in a film san kids. Which turns out to be terrible. My husband tells me it’s ok that I picked something so bad. He says he was just glad to be with me. I think the two Reposado milkshakes he consumed probably helped. But I don’t say this. We get home after midnight. On a Monday. This is a life I could live.
5:14 AM Pray my children sleep in. Obviously, I am not.
8:01 AM Notice prayers work. Determine that I’m going to have to wake them. Force myself to do it. It is hard. Very.
10:00 AM Decide I can’t do the whole nothing thing again. Take the kids swimming. It takes 27 minutes to load everyone into the car and drive two minutes to the pool. Come to the conclusion that this time must be beat by at least 22 minutes—otherwise I may not make it through the remainder of summer.
10:35 AM Arrive at the pool, get settled, to discover that only 2 out of 3 kids have functional goggles. You do the math. The world as we know it appears to be ending…
10:36 AM Threaten to pack up and leave. Look around. Similar conversations are abound. Because solidarity.
10:38 AM Threats appear to have worked. After thirty-eight minutes we are finally in the pool and everyone is happy. This had better last.
10:45 I snap this photo and post it to Facebook to show how amazing it all is. Look! It says, I have it all under control. :) Because that’s just what you do, no? ;)
The rest of the day is mostly uneventful. Until…
7:15 PM Something happens and suddenly everyone is pissed off. Someone said something to someone and whatever that something was— it was the wrong something, to the wrong someone. Everything has all gone to shit and the worst part is… I can’t even be sure what the catalyst was.
7:18 PM The kids have been “quarantined” upstairs. Meanwhile, I hide in the pantry with homemade peach cobbler and ice-cream. Just in case.
7:19 PM I text a friend. Wait a minute…I have to do this all over again tomorrow?
7:20 PM I am assured that I probably do.
7:21 PM It’s not too late for summer camp, I reply.
7:22 PM But then they would all be right, I am warned.
7:23 PM Realize that THIS CANNOT HAPPEN. I will do better… tomorrow.
7:24 PM Panic.
7:28 PM Decide to implement a camp of my own. I shall call it: Project Bootcamp. Stay tuned…