My husband will be away, and I was looking down the barrel of a whole weekend alone with the kids.
It’s not like I’ve never done it before. I am their mother. I can take care of my own kids. The rate of care may get knocked down a peg or two, but they’re still alive by the time my husband arrives home on Sunday, telling me he’s so tired because he’s been up so late the last two nights, as I look at him with murder in my eyes.
But this weekend, I just needed a break. Our family is struggling. All of us. And I really thought it would be good for all of us to get a break from one another. The kids could have fun at grandma’s and hubby would have fun at his friend thing. And me? I could relax, be semi-comatose, and attempt to move as little as possible from my place either on the couch or bed. Whilst on said couch, there would, of course, be multiple episodes of my obsession show, The Vampire Diaries (see yesterday’s slice for a little more detail on my love of the show and my crush) watched, along with many, many movies that I have already seen 137 times each.
Before I had the details of getting my children’s whereabouts taken care of, I started looking forward to all of the above and getting a little excited. This should have been my first clue that the other shoe was about to drop. My mom had already told me they weren’t going to be home most of Saturday but that my sister-in-law could likely take them for that time as long as she was free. She’s ALWAYS free. She never does anything. But the moments leading up to the phone call to her, my stomach begins dropping slowly towards my feet. By the time it was hanging out around my knees, she picks up. Within about 2 minutes, my fate was sealed. SHE WAS BUSY that day. My stomach has now taken a U turn and is heading north, ready to unload its contents when it gets to the end of the road. Tears get caught in my throat as I try to keep cool while trying to get her off the phone. I hang up, and it’s all too much. I let the tears out and cry.
I just need a break. I am fried. FRIED. And so weary. Physically and emotionally. And no break will come.
I’m strongly considering holing myself up in my bedroom for the whole weekend…telling the kids to forage for food, to play without killing each other (and to keep it down!), put themselves to bed before the sun comes up, and not to bother mommy in her room unless the house is burning down (and even then, that’s what 911 is for, right?) or mommy.will.go.crazy. KTHXBAI.
(for anyway ready to call the cops on me…I’ll make them sandwiches and call 911 for the fire)