There are definite differences to my husband's weekend and my "weekend." And if you ask me, they are pretty one sided.
Difference Number 1: Waking up on the days off from work
DH is not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, and neither am I. However, my Keurig and newspaper subscription are slowly changing that for me. Saturday mornings, I am up by 6:45, showered, dressed, and fed by 7:45, and on my way out the door no later than 8:30. DH sleeps through all of this. It's not until I forcibly remove the covers from his fetal-positioned body that he opens an eye. I need him out of bed to run interference from Mini Me so I can get out the door without a four-year-old on my leg. When I call to check in at 10:15, I hear kids asking for breakfast,
My "Saturday" (aka Tuesday), DH wakes up after the 11th time his alarm goes off, gets ready and leaves. Somewhere in there, he says to me, "Must be nice to sleep in." He came back yesterday to get something he forgot and found me still in bed at 8:25 a.m. I got a stern talkin' to. What? No, no hypocrisy going on here.
Difference Number 2: Breakfast
I already mentioned that by 10:15 or so, the kids are asking for breakfast with DH. What I failed to mention (and also DH's rationale for not feeding them until this time) is that they forage for nourishment until then. Chocolate chips, yogurt, stale tortilla chips, apples and string cheese - it's all open season for my kids with minimal parental supervision.
When it's my weekend, I am poked every 20 minutes from 6:30 a.m. until 8 or 8:30 a.m., all by different kids, begging for breakfast. When I do come downstairs and ask for 15 minutes to drink my coffee, they look at me like those malnourished kids in the commercial for sponsorship. I asked them this morning to get a yogurt to tide them over until sunrise and had a public flogging by Larry Potter. Somehow between Sunday and Tuesday, my kids lose the ability to gather nuts and berries...or Go-gurt and goldfish crackers.
|Oh, Mr. Belvedere. How much do you charge?|
Difference Number 3: The Activities
On DH's weekend, there is a plan of action. Usually, it involves massive consumption of gasoline, a large city, and someplace cool to see. Awesome. I'm glad they get to do things like this (and not only because it means I don't
On my "weekends" the kids ask me what we're going to do that day, like I have Six Flags tickets in my robe pocket. Which leads me to my final discussion point...
Difference Number 4: The House
When DH's weekends roll around, it's activities and fun and maybe shopping. Cat puked on the stairs? Walk over it. Somebody dropped a PB&J face down in the kitchen? Walk around it. There are no clean clothes for the kids? Teach them the sniff test. We got things to do.
When it's my "weekend," our activities are picking up from the previous five days, two of those days being DH's time off from work. Every week, I do laundry and clean the bathroom and pick up toys, grocery shop, and clean with chemicals that DH has no working knowledge of. Last Sunday, I mentioned a friend from work might stop over for a glass of wine before dinner. He heard me and cleaned to the best of his ability: he threw out the newspapers on the porch. The living room, kitchen, bathrooms, and basement were all on the application for Hoarders, but by God, that porch was clean!
I suppose to the rest of the world, I'm a worker bee. But to my family, I'm just Mom, and my working is really cutting into their sense of normalcy. I think this is when people start to hire Mary Poppins or Mr. Belvedere.