With Kids on the Weekends and 24/7 (Adult Perspective)
I wake up and smell the lingering
Febreeze in my room. The house is peaceful, calm, and most important, clean.
This is the usual Saturday I have and that means I have the whole day with my
eight-year-old. We begin by making breakfast together, then we play UNO and
Scrabble. After that, she designs airplanes and asks me to be the judge. Then, we have a contest of who can hold their breath the
longest in the pool. The last (but not least) fun activity we do together is watch a movie
marathon. I know it’s a work/school night for both of us, but we end up
sleeping at 11:00.
The
next morning is nothing but chaos. I have to rush and make breakfast and get
ready for work. My daughter keeps drawing flowers with her egg yolk on the
table. Throwing a wet towel on the table, I carry her to the bathroom. As she brushes her teeth, she asks me, “Did you like my yolk drawing?” I
try my hardest not to blow up. “Yes sweetie, it was amazing. Please brush your
teeth so mommy can put on her make-up.” She finally finishes after two minutes,
and now it’s my turn. I put on my make-up and yell, “Are you ready, sweetie?”
My daughter comes rushing down the stairs, her shirt on backwards. “Turn your
shirt honey,” I order, grabbing my briefcase. I drive her to school and I go to
work. I am 15 minutes late.
I come home from work and start calling for a baby sitter. I have a meeting
at 8:30 PM on Thursday, and I don’t have a sitter. My daughter keeps shouting,
“Mommy! Look! Look now, mommy!” “NOT NOW SWEETIE!” I yell, distracted. Then I
realize my food’s on fire. I can’t wait until Saturday…
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