home alone 5

My husband, Saint Casey, God bless him, has taken my 3 daughters to Ohio for the week. I’M HOME ALONE!!!!!

Why is it so delicious to have the house to myself? Have a couple hours? Let me count the ways:

When I leave my keys or lipstick on the counter they’re there when I come back.

When I get up in the night to pee I don’t step on a lego or a blob of jelly that fell out of a sandwich.

I can hear myself think.

No homework.

No teasing.

I don’t care if we have milk.

I know where the remote is.

I can eat out of the pan.

No one kicks me because I’m snoring.

I can read until I get bored.

I can get bored.

I don’t have to say “No.”

I don’t have to share.

Did I mention sleep?

My kids always ask me if I get lonely or miss them when they’re away. I lie. I say “of course!” The answer is “not really.” Am I a bad mom? I don’t think so but I also don’t care. Honestly. Whatever. I LOVE my week. I need it.

I love it because it is only a week.

The funny thing is I’m so boring when I’m alone. When I fantasize about having time alone my fantasy self does projects. Cleans out the closets. Gets drunk and stays out late with friends. My real home alone self is a slob, sleeps until 10:30, reads Norwegian mystery novels, doesn’t drink much at all (who needs a cocktail when you’re already in heaven?!), doesn’t even leave the house until the Stay’s Pita Chips run out. Left to my own devices I’m completely pathetic (and ecstatic, for the time being).

Who would I be without my husband and kids? Oh dear. I freaking couch potato with wierd knowledge of crime in Oslo but no idea who Lady Gaga is. A woman who hasn’t been projectile vomited on and therefor is under the illusion that she’s in control of her life. A woman who thinks having her keys in the same place she left them is really important. I know better. Any 4-year-old can tell you where your keys are (after all she hid them). She’ll also tell you that you’re “prettyful” and that your dress is “fabriolous”which in itself is worth more than a decent nights sleep.

groundhog year

I know it’s not officially Groundhog Day but in the Bill Murray movie sense isn’t practicallyeveryday GH day when you’re a parent?

As I was trudging up the stairs looking for some missing clothing item for 16th time this morning I was stunned at what a catastrophe our home is. Clothes everywhere. Popcorn on the floor. Boardgames, paper, crayons, dishes. Didn’t I just pick everything up yesterday? There was not one trace of evidence that I had done anything yesterday. For that matter there was no evidence that I had even existed. What did I do all day?

There are subtle differences between yesterday and today. I made 4 unique breakfasts this morning instead of 3. Frances needed a cheeriosmilkandsugar chaser after her “porridge” (cream of wheat). The dishes left over from dinner last night were actually grosser than usual—the chicken had burned in the pan, the gravy was congealed and dried. No one—i.e. me—had soaked the greasy pans. I have a food hangover from stress induced late-night eating. Awesome.

If I had sat on my ass all day yesterday what would today look like? All the picking-up I did has been eradicated. Most of the food I made is gone and all I have to show for it is dishes. I still haven’t paid the bills or responded to all the emails I don’t want to. I went to the store but forgot eggs so I have to go again. I just found out a pitch I worked on and sent out yesterday has gone to someone else. If I could do yesterday over maybe I should just stay in bed?

There has to be a bright side to this. OK, yesterday was a wash (as many days are). It hasn’t been a Groundhog Year has it? Has it? Oh shit. It kinda has.

If you saw a friggin’ photograph of my house last February 10th it would look exactly the same. A mess. A year ago I was starting my little business. It’s still a little business. My kids are still OK, not rock stars but fine. My friend H’s cancer is still around. And so is he.

I guess that’s basically the point. We are still here. I’ve actually started a viable business. My kids are in school not stealing necklaces or flubbing the national anthem. H is helping me pitch a big website job.

The dishes are in the sink and I am not going to wash them until tomorrow.

iknowmoms