Someone recently asked me why I haven’t blogged in awhile. The answer is, as Little Man would say: “I be busy!” “But you have the summers off” you might be thinking, “you probably are just laying by the pool drinking margaritas.” Oh, how I wish with all my might that were true. But, alas, the reality of my summer existence is not nearly so glamorous. Or quiet. Or anything close to resembling ‘relaxing’. Have I mentioned I have three children??
Take some day last week. I would be more specific, but all the days seem to run together in the summer. On this particular day I woke up to my alarm at 6:00 am, got up and spent some time in my garden, made some homemade meals for the homeless, deep cleaned all of my bathrooms, and ran 10 miles as part of my marathon training. This, in addition to entertaining, refereeing, feeding, cleaning, disciplining, and nurturing my three cherubs pretty much wore me out by 1:00 in the afternoon, so while Little Man was taking his nap, just this once, I wanted to take a nap too.
Okay, actually, that day didn’t quite happen exactly like that. I may have stretched the truth just a smidge. Actually, my alarm is set every day for 8:20. That gives me just enough time to get out of bed, brush my teeth, put in a ponytail and get my kids in the car with a toasted frozen waffle in each of their hands so that I can make it to the gym by 9:00 for my class. Some days, if we’re running late, I might pop the waffles out before they’re entirely done so they are still cold in the middle and hope no one notices. If they do, the kids don’t complain. Poor things are just happy to have some scraps to eat.
The only “gardening” I do is pulling weeds and grass out of the kids’ sandbox (and cleaning out cat poop while I’m at it) and watering one lonely hanging flower pot on our porch. If I remember. Which I often don’t. I don’t often cook homemade meals, either. And if I do, they aren’t for the homeless. Although my three ragamuffin children with their mismatched clothes and their uncombed hair often resemble homeless children. Or orphans. Or homeless orphans. And I do feed them homemade meals on occasion. Does a frozen Stouffer’s Lasagna count as homemade? It totally should. As for deep cleaning, unless wiping down a sink every so often with a Clorox wipe is deep cleaning, I guess I’m not really doing that either.
I am training for a marathon. Well, a half marathon, so that is half true. I am only up to about 3 miles each day, not 10, so that was a bit of a stretch. BUT, I am doing my “training” while the olders are at swim team in the middle of the day by running around a lake while pushing Little Man in the jogging stroller. So, while it is only a few miles, it feels like 800 in the midday heat with that heavy stroller and Little Man screaming “FASTER!” every 2 minutes or so.
The part about wanting a nap was totally true. But it wasn’t just that one day. It is pretty much every day. Little Man takes a good 2 hour nap every day, and the olders and I have “quiet rest time in our rooms” for an hour each afternoon. Not because they need it, but because I need it in order to keep my sanity. NEED IT!! Like I need oxygen. And Diet Coke. On this random day I actually wanted to sleep during “quiet rest time in our rooms”, so I told Mr. Wizard and Sassafrass that they were NOT to bother me for one whole hour. The only reason I would want to hear their voices is if someone was bleeding or on fire, do they understand? They said they understood.
Just to be safe I turned the bathroom fan on to block out any noise and set my alarm for one hour. I laid down on my gloriously soft bed, closed my eyes, sighed a deep breath, and started to doze off. Then I heard my door slowly open. I cracked one eye and saw Mr. Wizard peeking in.
“Mom? You said we should only bother you if someone is bleeding or on fire?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.” Actually, my face was smooshed on the pillow, so it sounded like “yesh, dat’s whaddye said.”
“Okay, but Mom? Um… what if there is a fire, but it’s not a person? Like, what if the dryer starts a fire and all the towels start burning up? Should we wake you up then?”
“Yes, any type of fire… wake me up. ”
“Okay. Oh, and Mom? Can I have a popsicle?”
“Not right now, when I get up… in one hour.”
“Okay. Oh, but Mom? Shouldn’t it be more like 55 minutes? I mean, you said you would get up at 2:00 and it is 1:05 so technic..”
I start to doze off again. Then I sense someone standing right next to me. And I smell ranch flavored Veggie Straws breath being breathed on me.
“Sassafrass, what do you want?”
“Oh, I was just seeing if you were really asleep or if you were just pretending to be asleep. You were just pretending because you’re talking so you weren’t really sleeping.”
“Are you bleeding or on fire?”
“Then Do. Not. Bother. Me!”
“Okay, but Mom?”
“Um…I’m scared it’s going to thunder.”
“It’s sunny outside!”
“I know but, it could turn into a thunderstorm and I’m scared of thunder because it’s scary.”
Another deep breath.
“Sassafrass, it is not going to storm, please go back in your room so I can take a nap.”
“But I’m boooooored.”
“Read a book.”
“But I don’t waaaaaant tooooo.”
I start to doze off again. Then I hear the olders fighting in the family room, a neighbor starts mowing, someone nearby all of a sudden is getting a new roof installed and the doorbell rings.
Another deep sigh. Then I get up, turn off my alarm, turn off the bathroom fan, and resign myself to the fact that a nap is not going to happen. I use the rest of the time that Little Man is asleep to fold 3 loads of laundry, pick up Legos, Barbie shoes, and puzzle pieces, preheat the oven to put in a “homemade” lasagna, and trim and mow the lawn.
When my husband gets home from work he asks the kids what they did all day.
They answer “Mom took a nap and we had quiet rest time in our rooms.”
I’m not the only one who can stretch the truth in this house.