I’ve missed my blog. It is quickly becoming a beloved friend, one that I find myself thinking about and eagerly anticipating our next meeting. This past weekend I discovered that instead of having “Aha!” moments, as one can read about from various celebs and such, I have sporadic, “Ahhhhhhhhh…..” moments.
Friday after work I was looking forward to picking up Maycee and preparing for what I thought was going to be a fairly calm weekend: much needed grocery shopping since it was payday, then a little horsey lesson Saturday with some play time in the afternoon and an oil change (3,000 miles past due), church on Sunday morning, and the Laker’s first playoff game at my boyfriend’s place. Hmmmmmm….did I say: calm? CALM. Yep, I said it. What was I thinking? Here’s what happened instead:
I picked up Maycee from school at 4:45 Friday afternoon upon which she promptly started begging, “Mommy, can we please go to Live Wire (a family friendly evening put on by her school’s church) tonight? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeez? All my friends are going.” “Oh, Maycee, I really wanted to go to the market tonight. We are totally out of stuff!” “I know, Mom, but I really want to go to this. They have hotdogs, so at least we’ll get some dinner, and it’s FREE (smart insertion by my child)!” -pause-I look down, I look around like someone may be watching me to see if I’d be the “nice” mommy, I look at Maycee-“Okay, I guess so. But, that just means we will HAVE to go to the market tomorrow before our lesson.” “Oh, sure that will be fine, Mommy! Sounds good to me!” Followed by high-pitched giggles, squeels, and excited laughter. Off and running she went to join her buddies around the corner.
Three hours later, the evening ended, but not after a new development. Maycee’s best buddy, Gabby, wanted to have a sleep over Saturday night. “Can we Mommy, can we, pleeeeeeeeeez?” –pause, again, the pleeeeeeez, again–I look at Gabby’s mom, who says, “If it’s okay with Maycee’s mommy, and you’re sure you want to.” Doomed, doomed, doomed. Would two little 7-year-old-girls decide against the “best day ever!”? Not a chance. The plan was set. C.A.L.M. was no where in sight. It had left the premises. I felt the tension rise up through my back and into my neck, up to my brain, where all nerves collided into a frenzy of “to-do’s” that would not get done, again, this weekend. OMG. What had I agreed to?
After a late bed time Friday night, Saturday appeared. Instead of a leisurely morning eating pancakes and bacon, watching Disney Channel, and writing my blog, we were out the door by 11 to head to the Dollar Tree to stock up on supplies for the sleepover, and our home, then to the horsey lesson. Reprieve. An hour and half reprieve at least. But, this quickly vanished out of sight as we finished up our lesson and the texting began with Gabby’s mom: “Where are you now?” “Where do you want me to pick up Gabby?” “Okay, we’ll meet you at the McDonald’s in Nipomo for a late lunch.” “See you there.” I know I didn’t mention that this was going to be Gabby’s FIRST sleep over. Whoa. You mean I might go through all of this only to have it end with taking her home in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep? To spare the details of the ensuing afternoon and evening would be best for this blog. I don’t want to cause any other SWM or parent to have a nervous breakdown. C.A.L.M. do you hear me now? I’ll just skip to bedtime at 10:00PM: two little girls, Gabby needing the TV on to sleep, Maycee needing silence and darkness to sleep, a slight argument, discussion of the “no hitting rule under our roof, two stories, a phone call to Gabby’s mom to say “goodnight”, glow sticks, more stuffed animals to fill the homemade tent up, finally, lights out. But that’s not all, folks. My house: it was unrecognizable. COMPLETELY. Doomed, I told you, I was doomed.
I could go on and on…parents who have had or have kids of this age know the drill. The only part of my weekend that actually went according to my grand master plan was the Laker game, and dismally, the Lakers lost. However, Gabby successfully (not defining success here) spent the night and went back to her mommy’s arms saying she can’t wait to do it again (the distant future again). So, I had to go home to my tornado of a dwelling, Maycee cranky and drained, and not one “to-do” done. Can you relate to the daunting task ahead? Here’s the deal: I did this to myself, I set myself up by thinking about C.A.L.M., but really friends, I did this FOR Maycee. My chores will always be there. She will only be 7 once. My to-do’s will never end, SWM or no SWM. Maycee’s childhood will. So, after 6 plus hours of sorting, taking down, putting away, wiping up, 10:45 at night, the tornado was gone, the house was back to it’s quiet state, the dogs were sound asleep and pooped out from all that had happened, Maycee was tucked away into bed with Blankie, Bluey, Crystal Kitty, and Socky dreaming. I walked around and just looked…at my couch, the walls, the fishtank, my empty kitchen sink, the tiny bit of peace that was there again, and literally felt it come over me: “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……” Quite a moment.