My children have been in the same p.j.’s for two days now. For that matter, so have I. We aren’t expecting company and if the doorbell rings, I plan to run in the bathroom and shut the door. I’m sure we all smell and the boogers, both eye and nose, have been left to fend for themselves. We are a delightful looking bunch.
What more can you expect on a dull, rainy Saturday when my husband is
out of town. Most of the day was spent laying around watching movies.
The day slowly slipped away from us unnoticed and very little of
anything was done. We were all getting a little stir-crazy. There was
even a point in the day when I overheard Cheese Eater talking to God.
“God. Stop the rain. Okay? OKAY?”
I tried to quickly clean the bathrooms, just so I could tell my husband
something when he called to ask, “What did you do today?” In my hurry to
return to my warm spot on the couch, I forgot to flush the toilet after
its quick scrub down. I was quickly reminded of that fact when I later
heard the baby splashing in the water, only to find his wet hand
starting to turn blue from the bowl cleaner. At least it washed off the
peanut butter from lunch.
I didn’t bother scraping the oatmeal that was stuck to the baby’s
highchair from breakfast and the toys have slowly taken over every room
in the house. I did get motivated enough to at least cook a decent
dinner. Sloppy Joe’s was on the menu. I enlightened my oldest, the
Cheese Eater, about how yummy they were and how much I had loved them
when I was his age. I even found the remainder of a potato in the bottom
of the crisper to make some homemade French fries. Dinner wasn’t any
different from the rest of the day. The baby proved why they are called
“sloppy,” the Cheese Eater wouldn’t touch his, and I burned the French
fries. It just wasn’t meant to be.
Funny though, I haven’t felt the least bit guilty. We haven’t
accomplished much of anything except be together. We did play cards,
color (I turned around for two seconds and the Cheese Eater colored his
p.j. bottoms orange and purple,) play computer games and watch the
Wiggles three times. We shared a bag of popcorn and some Cheez-Its as we
watched the rain wash Mommy’s dirty car. We cleaned up some spilled
chocolate milk and we dried a few tears over a basketball sharing
episode.
We spent time together. We weren’t worried about getting ready to go
out, rushing to an appointment or getting somewhere on time. We stayed
inside and played, rested and relaxed. We haven’t bathed, the sink is
full of dishes, and the floor is starting to stick to my house shoes.
I’m pretty sure if DHS showed up right now, my ability to be a good
parent would be questioned.
Maybe we haven’t stopped to smell the roses, but we definitely stopped
to just be. Be together. Be a family. We can always take a bath
tomorrow.
Previous Posts:
Has Anyone Seen My Temper?
A Bargain Hunter's Paradise
Cherished Moments
Parenting With Style
Driving With Pride
It's a Boy Thing
Definition of a Modern Mother
My Friend At Target
Reruns & Action Figures
Pajama Time
Organizational Issues
Summer Freedoms
Excitement About the Small Things
The Lies We Parents Tell
Birthdays to Remember
Can You Hang Tinsel On A Recycling Bin?
Time Out For Dummies
I'm A June Clever Wannabe
To read more from Stephenie, visit her site!
Mama Wants More
A column for today's mother who has it all and still wants more
because you're a mother, a wife, a citizen, a consumer. You're
unappreciated, underpaid, and over qualified for wiping bottoms &
cleaning toilets. But this was your dream. This is what you always
wanted. you love your life, but you still want more . Me too.
