Weekends are War


Everyone I know LIVES for the weekend.  It’s always the same. Monday: URGH!! Tuesday: Acceptance that the weekend has passed. Wednesday: Celebration of hump day! Half way there… Thursday: Sigh of relief, ending in sight, just one more day! Then there it is, FRIDAY! Oh the beloved Friday….

Shopping, clubbing, barbecuing, remodeling, yard work, garage saling, antiquing, rearranging, football watching, birthday party hosting and just plain ole hanging out… it all happens on the weekend. People roll up their sleeves and run to Home Depot, lose themselves for hours in the mall, catch a movie, get their hair done, and have all their fun in the small break between weeks.

From Monday til Thursday plans are stitched together just to make the most out of every single weekend. Everyone walks around on cloud 9 when Friday brings the commencement of such plans. Not me, I mean, I am a weekend warrior, but I live for Mondays!  

Now keep in mind that as I write this post, we are nearing the end of hunting season, which means I haven’t seen my husband on a weekend since sometime around Halloween. (A hunting he will go!) This phenomenon also known as “ghost husband” means I’ve been on my own to man the troops every weekend for quite some time now. Pair this with the fact that this has been our hardest year ever economically, and I am on frustration overload from Friday until Monday.

First off, my biggest problem is that I refuse to give up on my old habit of staying up late on Friday night and sleeping in on Saturday! As a kid, I too lived for Fridays because Mom never said “bedtime!” We could stay up as late as we could stand to, and the older we got, the longer we could hang in there. Then on Saturday mornings, we could sleep late, watch cartoons, eat cereal, and just chill! The Zoo Crew refuses to go along with this ideology. By 8:30pm, they’re out like lights, a well-formed Monday – Friday habit. Even Blondie’s out by 10 if there’s not some major party or a date to keep her eyes open wide. I always enjoy the quite calm of a sleeping house on Friday night. I walk around, look at their angelic faces so sound asleep, and say “this is way better than any happy hour!” I catch up on all my Facebook friends, write in my journals, scrapbook old photo’s, sew new dresses for KK, visit with anyone brave enough to stop by, yes, Friday nights are pleasant. It never fails that I will realize its 3am, force myself to run to bed, and go to sleep already full of dread for Saturday morning!

Saturday mornings teach me that these kids really could get up and dressed for school without all the hassle and drama if they WANTED to. Saturday morning hits and by 7am kids are fully dressed and pouring cereal all over the table as I hobble out of bed to catch up to them before the entire floor is mopped with spilled milk. I’d like to say I’m a great mom, great wife, good homemaker, but morning person, I am NOT! So the whole out of bed early on a Saturday in my biggest weekend complaint. To me, that just defies all things logical….

Our house is small, which makes for another obstacle at times because it can leave us running into and all over each other all day. This can make for extreme fun, or extreme agitation, depending on the moods of 5 very rambunctious boys and 2 spoiled girls… Still, I am usually game for a few pillow fights, a popcorn mess, and trampoline acrobatics, anything to get the laughter rolling. But when I’m the only grown-up home, my favorite plan of attack is to get out of the house!

I’m good to take a trail of kids to a park or a movie or a play date… anything is better than being stuck in the house. This year of no green has brought back the creativity I had to use when the oldest ones were little, back when we went rock hunting or back roading on the county roads. When Dyl Pickle was 4 years old we would play this game where I would take any turn he told me to take in an effort to find our way back out to the main highways all across our county! It made for amazing fun and incredible geography lessons. He’s 12 now, and he’s the best GPS we could ever send off with Blondie, plus he can change a tire!

But it’s hard to resurrect that game in this world where gasoline has become liquid gold. A full tank is a rare treat for my big red beast. Shopping is out, because shopping leads to buying, buying leads to account draining, and the account is so drained already, well, I haven’t even worn my “He hunts I shop” T-shirt all season long!

Still, I aim to please the zoo crew, so it’s play-doh and legos and finger painting. That’s doesn’t sound too bad, right? WRONG. Play-doh and legos and finger painting were so easy in the world where I had only one at a time in the preschool category. Now, when I break open the play-doh 5 of them come running and reek havoc all over my dining room table. It’s chaotic fun at its very best. But in the end, this house looks a little bit like Hurricane Ike was knocking at our door…

This is my favorite tradition!

Yesterday, we made birthday pancakes for my niece, pink with chocolate swirls! (She’s 18- how did that happen already?) Then we hit a local park, fed some hungry geese and a few ducks, played in the sand, slid down the slide, swung on the swings, came home and hit the trampoline until no one could breathe in a normal pattern and by 8:00, they were tuckered out. A friend invited me to run an errand with her in a nearby town, so I loaded up the beast with all the little ones and by the time we hit the highway, there was not an open eye left among them… even the dog was under the seat snoring…

Here is it Sunday. I’ve given all the kids a bath, refereed a few major disputes over hot wheels and the fake juice bottle that should belong to baby alive,  I’ve made cinnamon rolls and cut up fruit, cooked frozen pizza, passed out gummy fruit snacks and poured cranapple juice and chocolate milk and filled up the water bottles, chased a stray dog out of the house, more than once, written this blog and mixed a batch of frosting for my mother-in-law, who seems to be “cake-challenged” today. I’ve done the dishes, mopped the floors, hit the laundry pile, and I’m looking around at the 800 messes I haven’t tackled, and all I can say is “thank God tomorrow’s Monday, off to school they will go, and this place will be tamed once again!” ‘Til then, I am knee-deep in the hoopla, waiting for a payday, so I can just go shopping instead…


5 responses »

  1. I desperately seek some kind of balance between having time alone, having time as a family, and having time as a couple, because I think all three need attention. When I was younger I probably crowded my man, I think that comes from insecurity- feeling like you have to always be together to always be loved. Now, I realize that in all the crowding as a couple you lose yourself. It’s better to be somewhere in the middle, not always alone, not always together, just a little of both!

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