Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Saved by the perpetual neglect of the unfolded laundry


Tonight E took on the kids and I went out with a girlfriend. It was heavenly. Chat, chat, chat...good wine. CHAT, CHAT, CHAT, more wine... chat, chat. I was obviously hungry for chat. On the rare occasions that I do manage to get out of the house with a friend, after complimenting me on my ethereal beauty and flowing locks, E always complains that I dress up more for my girlfriends than I do for him. Alas, it is true. I think it is good for him. He gets to be reminded that yes... I am a hot mama. Tight pants and make-up. Lots of make-up. Thank GOD for make-up. Hallelujah. Amen.

I try to leave the house in some semblance of order before I go out. I want him to enjoy the evening solo with the kids, so that he'll do it again...and again..and... well, you get the picture. Tonight I had everyone fed and the kitchen cleaned up. I figure doing the bed and bath routine is about all that I can leave him to take on after a full day of work. Why I should feel guilty about leaving him with all of it is a bit puzzling. I mean I work all day, too. And then am on pretty much at night, too. As a mother do you ever get time off? On the one hand I want him to truly appreciate all that I do during the day. And he does. On a certain level. But, I don't think he really gets it.

Besides we think differently. The other night Girl was playing catch with Boy and Daddy in the living room. She was goofing around jumping on the couch and dove head first over the end. The only thing that saved her was that she landed in an overflowing laundry basket. Saved by the perpetual neglect of the unfolded laundry! I'm a hero! If I had had that laundry folded and put away, there would have been no cushion to land on and her head would have been stopped by the hardwood floor. Not a sight I want to imagine. Thank GOD for bad housekeeping!! E, although very grateful that Girl did not do a face plant on the floor, would be much happier if that basket was not there. Too bad. I like thinking of myself as a hero. Maybe I can acquire Supaah Powaahs and be a Super Hero. I wonder what that will take? Ooooh...too much contemplation. I'll have to keep you posted on the Super Hero status. Since the laundry is unending and he doesn't do it and doesn't realize the pressure of getting his work clothes washed and the only kind of socks he likes to wear of which there are maybe 3 pairs and 1 sock is always lost, which lowers it to 2 pairs, so the laundry needs to be done a lot.... well, all of that seems to ensure that at least I'll continue to be a hero. Supaah Powaahs!

And do I want him to get it? On the bad days I do. I desperately want him to get how hard it is to be at home with two preschoolers whose only intent at times appears to be driving mommy crazy. But, if he truly knew what it was like to stay home he would be really concerned about my state of mental agility at this point and start looking at me like are you my wife? Or just an insane person? And my life as a SAHM is certainly filled with good days and more importantly, the moments. Those astonishing moments are what keep me going. They are sacred ... precious... and I wish that E could experience them, too. But, then they wouldn't be my moments.

I left him with the playing, the baths, Pj's, many stories and his creativity-which is wondrous. He of bear hunts, flashlight reading in sleeping bags, pretend airplane flights with backpacks, the builder of intricate train track labyrinths with Boy, and the master tickler. [Girl told me the other day "You can't do that. That is daddy's job to tickle me.] When I pulled into the driveway tonight after my evening out, I was halted by Boy's sippy cup planted smack in the middle of the driveway. It made me smile. I got out to pick it up and felt grateful. I come home to this family. And I am blessed.


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1 comment:

Rima said...

See, it pays not to be the perfect homemaker!

I feel the same way about leaving the kids with their dad when taking time for myself. I know that he understands and wants me to have fun, but I still feel guilt. And as much as I want things to go smoothly, when they don't, I'm secretly kind of happy that he got to see just one iota of what "it's" like. It's horrible!

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