Start Winding Down
On Friday afternoon my two sons each have a friend over. For 2 ½ hours, there are four boys between the ages of seven and ten running up and down the stairs, fighting over who gets to use the computer, fighting over who gets to use the Wii and which game to play, looking for Star Wars Clone Wars guns, running outside and back inside numerous times while forgetting to take off their shoes and tracking in slurry seal all over our newly cleaned off-white carpets.
When the friends’ mothers mercifully come to pick up their sons, I remind Zach that he has to change into his basketball uniform. When it’s 15 minutes until his game starts and after copious amounts of yelling and taking privileges away, he saunters down the stairs and informs me he’s hungry.
After watching the game (104 vs. 6), I decide which fast-food joint to drive through while consoling my son about the fact that the other team was a team of giants and the ref really wasn’t making fair calls anyway. After the boys load up on cheeseburgers, fries, apple dippers and shakes and my husband and I microwave leftovers from three days ago, the boys argue over which show to watch on TV and I plop a bowl of popcorn in front of them. Then I grab a glass of wine and a magazine and sit on the sofa. I wake up at midnight to find my husband sprawled on the other sofa and the boys still watching TV and asking for more popcorn.
Ready, Set, Go
Saturday morning, I wake up to beep, beep, beeping as I realize I automatically set the alarm last night. It’s now 6:30 in the morning. I put my head back on the pillow as I realize I have another hour to sleep. My husband hasn’t stirred. As I lay awake during the whole hour, I think about the things to do this weekend, what I need to buy at the grocery store today, what meals I will make all week, I need to remember to make a doctor’s appointment for Alex, I still haven’t bought the gift for the birthday party Alex will go to tomorrow, I forgot the clothes in the washer last night, the credit card bill is due in two days – if I drive to the post office to mail it today, will it get there in time?
When I get up, I remember that Alex’s soccer uniform hasn’t been washed and is all rumpled at the bottom of the laundry basket. As I throw the clothes from the washer into the dryer and throw the uniform into the washer, I calculate I will have just enough time for the uniform to dry before we run out the door to his game. I wake the boys up, I wake my husband up and the rush is on to get everyone fed, dressed and teeth brushed while keeping the boys from becoming comatose in front of the TV. As Alex is putting his soccer socks on he says “mom, why do my socks feel wet?” “Don’t worry hon, they’ll dry out before the game” (I hope).
While we watch Alex’s game, I remember that I’m supposed to bring the snack for Zach’s game, which starts in an hour. I rush to the store to pick up chips, fruit roll-ups and juice and make it back to Alex’s game to find out I just missed the first goal he’s ever made. “Mom, where were you?” – ouch!
After Zach’s game, I go grocery shopping, stop at the dry cleaners, drop off bills at the post office, stop at the pharmacy, get gas and deposit money at the bank’s ATM to cover the bills I just mailed. It’s dinner time by the time I get home and Alex has a basketball game in an hour. I make the boys hot dogs, have some cereal, then throw in another load of laundry before we head out the door.
When we get back from the game, the boys argue over which show to watch on TV. I’m too tired to make popcorn so they each eat a bag of chips. I get myself a glass of wine and a magazine and sit on the sofa. At midnight I wake up to see the boys eating another bag of chips, while there are four empty chip bags surrounding them, and my husband is sprawled on the other sofa.
A Relaxing Sunday
Ahh, Sunday at last! I finally get to sleep in. The cat comes in our room at 5:50 and jumps on the bed, then jumps on the windowsill, then starts scratching the side of our bed “Zoey, cut it out!”, then goes into the bathroom and finds an errant marble on the floor and starts chasing it around, bouncing it off the walls.
After about ½ an hour, I decide to just get up. My husband hasn’t stirred. I go out to get the newspaper and start going through it. Once I get comfortable, the boys wake up and start yelling that they’re hungry. I make them pancakes from scratch and try to make a clever shape out of them. “What is that?” “I know – it’s a cat’s head.” “No, you guys, it’s a birthday present with ribbon – Alex’s birthday is coming up – can’t you see?” “Uh yeah, mom, whatever.”
Then I remember that I still haven’t gotten the gift for the birthday party Alex will be going to in an hour. I get dressed and rush to Target to find Bakugan, or Gormiti, or whatever was popular with boys his age at the time. When I get home, I realize I forgot to get a card so I put a green piece of paper in front of Alex and tell him to make one – “it’s more special that way – really.”
When Alex and I get to Boomers, a family entertainment center that’s a very popular place for birthday parties, we’re searching for anyone we can recognize in a sea of screaming, hyped-up, sugarloaded, token-wielding children. After a day of miniature golf, laser tag, bumper boats, race cars and the kiddy-casino – I mean the arcade – I’m looking forward to a relaxing Sunday evening.
When I get home, Zach informs me that he has a report due tomorrow on Chumash Indians and he can’t get all his information on the internet. When we get to the library 15 minutes before it closes, a sympathetic librarian leads us to a book on Californian Indians. We gratefully rush home. After three hours of finding out as much as we can about the Chumash and me lecturing Zach that he needs to write the report himself because it’s his report, not mine, I argue with the boys about taking showers, brushing teeth and going to bed.
When I hit the pillow, I’m out. Then I wake up at 3:07 and hear a drip, drip, dripping. I remember that I need to call the plumber about the leak in the shower faucet that keeps getting worse, I need to collect money and get a gift for Zach’s coach, I need to buy party favors for Alex’s upcoming birthday party, I need to bake cookies for the PTA bake sale on Tuesday, I’ve got to buy baseball cleats before the season starts, I need to start working on our taxes, I need to fill out and turn in a field trip permission slip and I forgot about another load of laundry in the washer. I drift off to sleep somewhere around 6 (I stop looking at the clock at 5:37). The alarm goes off at 6:30. My husband hasn’t stirred. Another ordinary weekend.