I remember when Saturday meant sleeping in until 10am, getting up and taking a long shower, having a cup of coffee or tea (maybe two cups). I would take my time getting dressed for the day then go shopping or to a fesival, to a friend’s house for a BBQ or a crawfish boil. Some days I would just hang out at home in my PJ’s and watch movies or read. I would sometimes take a short nap in the late afternoon before getting ready to go out for the night. I would go dancing or to listen to a great band in the French quarter, maybe meet friends for dinner. I would get home late (or early, really). I didn’t have to work the next day, afterall.
And then I had kids, oh how different it is now.
Here is what a Saturday looks like now:
6:00am: Hear kids playing in their bedroom, put pillow over your head and hope they go back to sleep.
6:15am: Give up on that hope when you hear them playing in the living room, get up before they destroy something or get into something they ought not to be into.
6:30am: After asking kids a dozen times what they want for breakfast, give up and give them whatever is easiest to make. Wait for them to start complaining that they wanted something different. Start unloading the dishwasher so that you can load it again.
6:45am: Tell kids to finish their milk for the fifth time, go back to the dishes that you forgot about because you were distracted by the blob of mystery goop on the floor by the fridge.
7:00am: Finally get breakfast finished, marvel at the fact that there is still a sink full of dishes even though you just loaded the dishwasher to the point of bursting.
7:15am-9:00am: Clean, fuss at the kids, clean, break up kid fight, clean, mumble to yourself. Somewhere toward the end of this timeframe resist the urge to beat your husband over the head with the broom handle you are currently holding when he finally gets up and breathes his morning dragon breath on you and says “wow, you got up early”.
9:00am-Noon: Clean, have tea party with kids, clean, throw a load of laundry in the washer, move from mumbling to yourself to outright talking to yourself.
12:30pm: Make kids PB&J for lunch, listen to them complain that they wanted chicken nuggets. Put 2nd load of dishes into the dishwasher, try to figure out how there is another sinkful waiting.
1:00pm-3:00pm: Clean, break another kid fight, clean. Realize that you haven’t eaten all day, make yourself some lunch, sit down to eat it, be immediately surrounded by kids who bum at least half of your lunch from you.
3:00pm-5:00pm: More laundry, clean, try to figure out what to make for dinner. Order pizza.
5:30pm: feed kids and husband pizza, insist on using paper plates, still have to do a 3ed load of dishes.
6:00pm-8:00pm: load kids into the tub, end up just as wet as they are, jammie wrangling, nite nite books. Put kids to bed and pray they stay there.
8:15pm: Flop down on the sofa with a slice of cold pizza, resist urge to drop kick husband when he says “Why do you work so hard? It’s Saturday, you are supposed to rest.”
9:00pm: Head off to take a nice hot bath, notice the pile of laundry on the bed that needs to be folded, fold laundry and put it away, collapse exhausted into bed instead of taking that bath you really wanted, despite near delirious exhaustion, lay awake thinking of the things you forgot to do that day, about bills, remember the load of laundry you forgot to put in the dryer. Get up, put laundry in the dryer, go back to bed, remember something else….
Midnight: Finally go to bed, resist urge to smother husband with your pillow because he is snoring.
*Repeat
aNOLAwriter 