December 5, 2005
lost weekend
When I was in college, some fraternity boys I knew had a Friday Afternoon Drinking Club, which really just meant that at 4:00 on a Friday they would tap a keg and start the weekend. I always liked this kind of late-afternoon cocktail partyish drinking (which of course I did not participate in until I was of legal drinking age, lest you think my moral character is somehow corrupt), although sometimes we would start with beer on Friday afternoon and the next thing you knew it was Sunday and you still had to read a substantial part of Plato’s Republic and write a paper on Transcendentalism (what? I went to a liberal arts college). And I would think, where did my weekend go? And where can I get a bottle of water and some Tylenol?
This weekend was sort of like that, but without the drinking or the homework. My Friday started with Henry having a huge meltdown at 4:00 pm and Wade calling moments later to say that he would be late (of course!). Saturday I left the house exactly twice: once in my pyjamas ans slippers, at 7:30 am, to take my car to have it maintenanced, and again in the afternoon to pick the car up. In between, I was home with Henry, who was in some kind of BAAAAD mood and spent 45 minutes hiding in his closet because I opened the blinds in his room. Seriously–I pulled up the shades, so that he wouldn’t have to get dressed in the dark, and he said, ‘I can’t see with that much light!’ and went in the closet and shut the doors. (Did I mention that Friday night’s tantrum was caused by me CLOSING the blinds, because it was getting dark out and his room faces the street? No? Well, it was). So instead of going to Starbucks with Wade and Charlie, I stayed home with Henry, who finally came out of his closet and played in his room. Eventually, I conned him into playing chess with me, but it was pretty much a long morning of Henry talking to himself. At least I got a shower.
Saturday night Wade’s parents came for dinner, which was fun, especially since my mother-in-law brought dinner with her (no that wasn’t my plan, but she had a casserole in the freezer, left over from Thanksgiving, and since I wasn’t able to leave the house all day, it worked out well). Wade had offered to get rolls and salad ingredients when he went out in the morning; he came home with a bag of iceberg lettuce. That was all. No tomato, no nothing else. ‘It has carrots and cabbage in it!’ he said, ‘What more do you want?’ Um, a TOMATO? But no. But dinner was lovely and the boys were good, so whatever.
We were celebrating Henry’s half birthday, which had seemed, on Friday morning, like a good idea. Henry’s actual birthday got short shrift this year, as he had his cavities filled the day before, which threw me, and he’s been getting these great notes from school all week, about how well he’s doing in class, so I thought, ‘We’ll celebrate!’ Initially the boys wanted to make cupcakes, which I can manage, but then Henry asked Wade’s mother to make him a pumpkin pie instead (actually he wanted a pecan pie, but she refused–too much work, especially after having 2,000 people in her house for Thanksgiving). I hate pumpkin pie. Go ahead, say I’m unAmerican–it’s just too slimy for me. But it’s one more holiday food that won’t be going to my ass, so it’s a good thing.
So Saturday I folded laundry and listened to the boy talk to himself about what he might want to do for his half birthday (which of course he was wasting doing NOTHING but talking to himself about what he might do), but Sunday was a new day, right? Uh, yeah. I DID leave the house, to go to Starbucks (thank god) and the bookstore, and I actually got some Christmas shopping done, for the boys and our nieces (Wade distracted the boys while I bought stuff–he’s a good man, tomato aside). But then Charlie, who has a cold, decided that he was tired and wanted to be held–no, wait, he wanted to go home–no, wait, he wanted to be held–you get the idea, so we left. And honest to pete, I have no idea what we did at home. Henry refused to eat lunch and hid in the tent (yes, we have a tent in our family room–don’t you?) and Charlie ate his lunch but whined about how he didn’t like it; Wade had taken a Benadryl, because he was itchy, and was hardly able to keep his eyes open. So we all laid down to nap. Well, not me–I folded more laundry and watched HGTV, which just depressed me. Why don’t MY holiday decorations look like that? My house looks like it was decorated by preschoolers. Oh, wait, it was.
Blah blah, the kids got up at 2:00, Henry wanted to play checkers but wouldn’t let me explain the rules to him, Charlie was crying and INSISTING that I hold him (while I sat in the teen tiny chair that goes with the boys’ teeny tiny child-size table). And Wade was still sleeping. Eventually we all went outside, where it was a whopping 36 degrees (if people in Minnesota can go outside ALL WINTER we can do it too), but Charlie kept crying and Henry was playing with a very big stick (that WADE had given him! go figure!) and nearly impaled himself a couple of times. So we went BACK inside and packed everyone up and went back to the bookstore. And at that point I thought, what the hell happened to my weekend?
At dinner, I said to Wade, ‘I’m going to call my dad in a little while here; I haven’t talked to him all week.’ And he said, ‘Be sure to tell him that you didn’t shower today.’ Yes, because really that was the most interesting part of my ENTIRE WEEKEND. Oh, yeah, and I wore the same clothes for two days. But I was never once drunk, which makes it all the sadder.
Posted by Susan @ 5:29 am • Uncategorized
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December 5th, 2005 at 6:32 am, Felicity Says:
as the official bad mother, drunken commenter, you have my permission to get drunk NOW: add some delicious Frenagelico to your coffee. Then, have some more to drink at lunch. Spend the entire week trying to give yourself what you didn’t get this weekend.
December 5th, 2005 at 6:44 am, Mary P. Says:
Oh, poor you! A weekend blur of tantrums, rants (not even yours!) and tomato-less salads. (A bowl of lettuce and carrots is NOT a salad. It’s just a bowl of lettuce and carrots.) And yet still you make it funny. Amazing, you are.
My suggestion? Assured time out for yourself. Some years ago, good old Q noticed that I was losing my zest for life (and for nookie, which might have been the big motivator for him), and sat me down to Talk. The upshot of the talk was his suggestion that I take every single Saturday morning off.
At first I was all “I can’t do that…kids…housework…responsibilities, blah, blah, blah.”
“Just try it.” he said.
It’s worked like a charm! I leave about 9 in the morning, I come back early afternoon. He holds down the fort - and remember that some weeks that fort has seven kids in it. He’s a good man.
It has made all the difference in the world. Those few hours every week bring life and energy into me.
December 5th, 2005 at 7:07 am, Susan Says:
Mary P, maybe we could just trade husbands? Wade is very handy, I swear, when he’s not all loaded up on antihistamines . . .
December 5th, 2005 at 8:44 am, Anne Glamore Says:
We had the same Fri afternoon tradition and for some reason it was called Hookers but I don’t think it had anything to do with women of the night.
December 5th, 2005 at 8:58 am, Kristen Says:
Susan, that weekend description sounds so. freaking. familiar. The hiding in the tent (at our house it’s under the kitchen table), refusing to eat, crying to be held, illogical changing of the toddler mind, trips out, trips right back home…and then you look up and it’s Monday morning. SIGH.
December 5th, 2005 at 9:38 am, Laura Says:
I remember those sorts of weekends. They do get somewhat easier as the kids get older! I feel fortunate we took a lot of pictures back then - it all seems a big blur now. Also, we once had to leave a steakhouse because G. said it “Smelled like beef.” I kid you not.
December 5th, 2005 at 9:52 am, Kara Says:
yuck. sorry your weekend was so stinky. i hope you get some time to shake off the blahs today.
does it ever snow in oklahoma?
December 5th, 2005 at 11:18 am, Jenorama Says:
Oh my gosh, this brings back such vivid memories of my life just a few years ago that I practically got hives reading it.
I think you should listen to felicity and put some Frangelico in your coffee. And vodka.
December 5th, 2005 at 11:49 am, ieatcrayonz Says:
And I though the “just rolled out of bed look” ended when I left college.
Man, I want to be a SAHM. And yes, I know you hate that term. It’s much better when you use Dooce’s interpretation, though: Shit Ass Ho Motherfucker.
December 5th, 2005 at 12:10 pm, Chag Says:
Hope today’s going better for you.
Did you ever find out why the blinds were setting Henry off?
December 5th, 2005 at 1:39 pm, Susan Says:
Chag, I have no idea at all what was up with the blinds. But today he is over it! Just like that!
A little Irish in my coffee is sounding good about now . . .
December 5th, 2005 at 2:07 pm, MIM Says:
Oh, honey! Every now and then we have those weekends here, too. In fact, I wore the same the clothes for both days this weekend and didn’t shower at all yesterday. But at least we didn’t have the tantrums. I just had to study for finals!
December 5th, 2005 at 2:08 pm, MIM Says:
BTW, isn’t cocktail time somewhere in the world?
December 5th, 2005 at 4:19 pm, adria Says:
Yes, there must be a tantrum bug going around this weekend because we had the ups and downs at our house too. Daria’s, however, have lasted through today, hooray!
I agree, pumpkin pie is not that yummy.
December 6th, 2005 at 6:54 am, Misfit Hausfrau Says:
A bowl of lettuce and carrots is rabbit food.
Sorry your weekend sucked.
December 6th, 2005 at 9:11 am, Candace Says:
Holy crap, I’m exhausted just reading about it.
December 6th, 2005 at 12:45 pm, Wood Says:
My condolences on the loss of your weekend. Made for good reading for the rest of us, though. So thanks for that.
and yeah, our weekends are like yours. Cleaning the house is usually #1 on the agenda, which never gets done and so I never find out what #2 is.
December 6th, 2005 at 1:40 pm, L. Says:
Two out of my three kids are older now, so theoetcially I should be over and done with the kind of stuff you describe — but my thoughts are that it hasn`t gotten any EASIER — it`s just gotten DIFFERENT. I still wonder where the hell my weekends go…. and most of the time, I am way too sober.