I am so tired.
This parenting thing really packs a wollop on the old body. I need some rest.
I am currently angry at my husband. He left today for a fun-filled "conference" in sunny Arizona for the duration of the holiday weekend. A holiday weekend. I am seriously not even understanding that one. If I didn't know how freaking religious he was I would swear he was meeting a chick there, but alas, he knows Jesus frowns on those things so that would never happen. But a holiday weekend? Who schedules this shit?
So here I am barely able to keep my eyes open and make it to the bathroom every 45 minutes, yet I am caring for two children ALONE all damn weekend. Yep, I'm pissed. I swear to all that's holy, if he calls here telling me what restaurant he ate at and how cool Arizona is, I am tossing his shit out the window.
Now, I am fully aware that this is for "his job" but it's really not a necessity to his current job. Basically, some a-hole told him if he wanted to be considered for a promotion he better go. The thing is, he'll never get a promotion at this place. He has been chasing one since we moved here seven years ago, they promise monthly that, yes, he's next, but he never is. Why he continues to put up with it is beyond me. The money's not great, the people suck, and the work keeps piling on, but he toils on. Whatever.
Anywho.......yeah, I'm put out that I have to spend four solid days with the non-napping children from hell, but what I am really put out about is that he will only be home two days before he leaves for that God forsaken wedding because, uh yeah, as if the big ski trip weren't enough, he is expected to entertain groom, groom's father, and groom's brother in law next Thursday and Friday. My doctor said, GO, have a wonderful time. Here's the number of a great doctor in Baton Rouge, but you know Jacob's school would schedule the kindergarten musical that Friday night (Friday night? Who does that?) and he must go as it's mandatory, so no, the kids and I won't be going. I'll be spending that whole weekend alone with them as well PLUS attending a school function while trying to juggle video camera and two year old. Good times.
Now, I am lucky to be able to stay home with my kids. Most days I truly enjoy it, but like any job, it gets old now and then and sometimes you just need a little vacation. That's why "working" folk get vacation time. My husband is gone from this house 13 hours a day and one evening a week. I am responsible for all child care during that time. I am also the cleaning service, chauffeur, personal shopper, and chef for the household. I am okay with that. I am not okay with the other parent taking off on so many weekends. Weekdays I can handle, not much change there, but I need the weekend to tag team and maybe rest my bones a little bit before beginning the week anew. The thought of parenting for basically three weeks straight is making me stir crazy. Don't even get me started on how I had a premature baby once and what in hell will I do with these kids if I do it again? I don't like being alone with these kids in that situation. We don't have people. We don't have anyone nearby to call if something bad happens. I miss nice neighbors. I need nice neighbors. I need a nap.
The husband did just call. I was pleasant because, frankly, an over the phone fight didn't appeal to me at that moment. He ended up going with the boss and two big brown-nosers so things aren't looking well for him and that promotion. I almost feel for him. Jacob is helping to hold things together as well as any almost six year old can. He entertains Adam and that, so far, is good enough for me. The dog and cat are at my constant side, a united front to the chaos I guess, but I love that they feel my need and act upon it. You can always count on your pets, no? Jacob even cleaned out the litter box which, cue the trumpets, was the whole reason I had children in the first place. As God is my witness, I shall never scoop cat poop again! Things are looking up....we can eat at Waffle House for breakfast and make pillow forts in the living room. We can leave every single Lego and car out on the floor and the best part, we can let the dog upstairs (shh, don't tell) to sleep with us again. No cold tile floor for him this weekend. Shoot, we might even enjoy all this Daddy free time.
Her Name Was Violet
21 hours ago