Young or soon-to-be mothers are always coming up to me and asking, “Michelle, how do you it all?” (No, not really. But play along.)
And I say to them, “Well, young grasshopper. I don’t. At least not on the weekdays.”
The weekdays are all about the survival. Strings of tasks and nothing really accomplished. Breakfast, snack, groceries, laundry (sometimes), lunch, snack, dinner, dishes, snack, bath time, bed time. And, the next day, repeat.
But the weekends – that’s when all the action happens. Real chores accomplished, adventures abound, calories consumed. Those two or three days are usually filled to the brim with magic. And French fries.
I wanted to share a day with you, my friends, so that you can get to know me a little better. And so it begins this past Saturday morning…
8:00 am: Wake up already behind in my womanly tasks and feeling a little bloated from my binge at The Red Lobster the night before. I am no longer a Red Lobster virgin. And, for this, I am grateful.
8:15 am: Undeterred by the bloat, I chow down on the massive breakfast Larry made. I love that man because, if for nothing else, he gets up and makes breakfast on Saturdays.
9:00 am: I lie on the couch in deep regret.
10:00 am: I pry myself off the couch and decide that I better get my act together. A new day awaits. Target beckons.
10:15 am: The siren song of Toys R Us steers me away from Target. I spend the next 45 minutes picking out Easter gifts and daydreaming. These are the toys that will blow all other toys out of the water. My children will love them so much, they will spend hours happy and entertained and not ask me for a single thing for weeks. They will kiss my ring and say yes to every request. These toys are my magic beans.
11:00 am: Satisfied with my purchases and happy that I didn’t spend so much as to send an email alert to Larry on his iPhone, I head over to Target. This trip must be quick. So I speedwalk through the aisles, throwing cleaning supplies, shampoo, tights and hair product into the cart as if I’m on that TV show “Supermarket Sweep.” That show was awesome.
11: 30 am: I arrive at the gym. I spend 30 minutes on the elliptical and tell myself that all transgressions at the The Red Lobster are now forgiven. A man stares at me. He’s definitely not checking me out. I think he’s a little frightened at how red and sweaty I am.
12:00 pm: I arrive at the Carls Jr. drive-thru.
12:15 pm: I get home and silently curse the drive-thru chick for putting cheese on my Famous Star burger. As if the cheese (and not the burger, bun, mayo and hundred fries) is what is keeping me from looking like Angelina Jolie.
1:00 pm: I begin baking. I know! What the hell is the matter with me?
3:00 pm: I’ve made the Chocolate Caramel Crack(ers) and the Pavlovas are in the oven. I get started on laundry. I have only now realized that I’m going out on date night tonight and my son has no pajamas and I have no clean jeans.
5:00 pm: After showering, blow drying my hair and putting on makeup, I go downstairs to start the kids’ dinner. I begin sweating when I can’t find the box of macaroni and cheese in the cupboard.
5:01 pm: I find the box. Crisis averted. But I’m not sure what damage it has done to my makeup.
5:15 pm: I feed the kids and stand over the stove shamelessly shoveling Kraft macaroni and cheese into my mouth straight from the pot. It is undignified, gluttonous and deliciously satisfying. I tell myself it’s important to carb-load before a marathon.
5:30 pm: I fold thousands of articles of tiny clothes.
6:00 pm: Jeannie arrives to babysit the kids. My excitement is not at all subtlety concealed. I exercise restraint and keep the bear hug to under 30 seconds.
6:30 pm: I run around the house getting things set up for departure. I throw on clothes that are acceptable for a night out. I don’t have many so it doesn’t take very long at all.
7:15 pm: Larry puts Linc to bed and we both apologize to Jeannie for the Barbie movie that Maya has elected to watch. I tried to convince her to choose a nice Disney film. Those Barbie movies are the absolute worse drivel on Earth.
7:30 pm: We arrive at the restaurant and meet the three other couples that make up our core group of “parent friends.” I order a gin and tonic. I would rather have a fruity drink but I need something that will do the trick a little quicker tonight.
8:15 pm: I order the sea bass instead of the steak and immediately regret it. Fortunately, when it comes, we all decide it doesn’t taste up to par (I’m not the only one with buyer’s remorse) and send it back. I order my steak instead. I am fully aware that they will probably spit on it but I decide the risk is worth the reward. Mmm….beef.
11:00 pm: After waiting a million hours for dessert, it finally arrives. And it is also worth it. Freshly baked red velvet cake with frosting, nuts and fresh berries. I’m not a huge dessert person, but this is some good shit. I must enjoy it because, after the sea bass debacle, I can never step foot in this restaurant again.
11:30 pm: We say our goodbyes and head home – full and happy and fuzzy and warm. I know I’m going to regret this day again in the morning but I’m not focused on that right now. I’m happily hugging my leftover steak and potatoes on my lap.
11:45 pm: After another bear hug, I let Jeannie go home.
12: 00 am: When Lincoln hears us coming up the stairs to go to bed, he wakes up screaming “Mama! Where are you? Daddy! Where are you?” I get him, he starts coughing and I feel that he has a fever. Fuck. Tomorrow is gonna suck.
Good night.
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