maintenance

so last friday i got a free pass. (a free pass to freedom.) i couldn't help but wake up and be a little giddy on the morning of my escape, but there is always that motherhood feeling of guilt that creeps in at the back end and slaps you in the back of the head. as i left work that day, i wondered how many times my phone would ring with questions about my two little chickens at home...and then about 15 minutes after that thought, i got the first one. i reluctantly answered and butch said, "i just blew out a tire on the way to get the girls from the sitter and i'm standing on the side of the road." (what. the. hell.) he went on, "so can you just call the sitter and tell her that i'm going to be a little late?" (he doesn't even have her number!) i said yes and then asked him what he was going to do about the flat. he said, "well i'm going to change it." if you follow my posts, you can see why this would be of some concern to me. my husband is a lot of things...but handy is not one of them. i actually got a little sick in my stomach thinking about him slapping a spare tire on and proceeding down the highway to get the girls. however, he said, "i did this once when i was sixteen, so i know what i'm doing." he talked about being sixteen like it was just last weekend...not sixteen years ago. i said okay and called to inform the sitter. just to be clear, this has not happened in the past 8 years that we've lived in maryland...so it's only fitting that the day that i am heading out of town he blows out a bridgestone and ends up stranded. after he got the tire on he sent me a text that made me laugh. it was a picture of the tire with the caption, "WHAT A JOKE!" it was the smallest donut i've ever seen, like a toy tire. (spectacular.)

"WHAT A JOKE!"

so anyway, this is how the weekend kicked off...with me worrying about warren's tire and hoping he'd make it to pick up the kids on time. however, it all worked out and then he made a homemade meal of mcdonalds happy meals for them, poured himself an amstel light...and all was well in the world. when i rolled into my hometown, i had to stop at walmart to pick up some things. my mom called and asked me to pick up a pack of smokes for my old man as well. walmart can be a scary place...walmart in my hometown is an even scarier place. let's just say there was an eclectic group of individuals...and i'm pretty sure i saw a woman in pajama pants and slippers. (it was 5pm.) what is with these people? is it too much to put on shoes...and proper pants?! why would anyone want to go into public like that? maybe they are just overworked parents who have given up? (i dunno.) anyway, i got in line and asked for the cigarettes and the girl behind the counter eyeballed me and said, "i'm gonna need to see some ID." i laughed...loudly, and then said, "are you serious!?" she said, "yes." (without as much as cracking a smile...apparently she was very serious.) so i pulled out my ID, told her i was three days older than christ and she said, "WOAH! born in '82?" yes you fool, i'm far beyond 18. however, i was flattered, and texted fen and said, "i just got carded when i was buying cigarettes for my dad." she said, "WITH ALL THAT GRAY HAIR?!" (what a jerk.) i do, in fact, have a plethora of gray hair popping up on my head...i credit my children for each and every one of them.

when i finally got to my parents house, they started their typical sitcom like skit very early on. i was in the guest room getting ready for dinner and i heard my dad yell (to my mom), "do you know where that green jacket is that was in this hall closet!?" (uh oh.) now i know damn well that my mom has a special gift of misplacing things and this was probably not going to end well. she "pretended" to look in the closet and then came into the room that i was in and "pretended" to look in there as well...all the while my dad yelling about why he can't find it. she turned to me and whispered, "i gave it to goodwill!" and right after yelled (to my dad), "it's gotta be around here SOMEWHERE!" (i couldn't breathe.) after another argument about finding a pair of "lee" jeans he wanted to wear...we finally made it out the door for dinner. as we sat at the table, my dad turned to my mom and said, "did you pick up my pills?" my mom said, "no, i didn't get around to it." he replied, "well that's good, so on sunday i could just drop dead." (dead.) she laughed about his impeding death. we wrapped up dinner without any more talk about the jacket, the pills, the jeans, him dying....and went to another place for some drinks. it was there that my mom got hopped on the wine, which makes her talk incessantly. at one point my dad turned to her when she was rambling to him about something and said, "sometimes i wish you were just a blow up doll....so i could deflate you." he said this with a dead straight face and my mom and i could not get our shit together. (deflate her.)

the next day, i had a 5K that i signed up for a couple months ago and since the following weekend is easter...warren didn't want to travel twice. so he said, "well i can just keep the kids." these seven magical words were music to my ears. i said, "are you sure?" he said, "yea, as long as i get a weekend away, too." most of what we do is pretty equal. i mean, i do a shit ton of stuff around the house while he scratches his nut sack...but he does help out when necessary. also, if i get a girls night with fen...he also goes out for a night with the guys. i know damn well that i am lucky to have this type of set up, because most men wouldn't stay home alone to "watch" their own children. (truth.) when he has them, though, i have to let go of some stuff and realize that they are probably going to watch more TV then they should and things like hygiene are going to fall by the wayside. so when i came home on sunday, opened the door, and was smacked in the face with the smell of shit...i was not surprised. i'm not exaggerating when i say the house smelled like feces, it was like in the walls. there were empty juice cups, dirty plates, toys everywhere...and then this smell of shit. everyone in the house was asleep for naptime, including my husband. i cleaned up a bit and went upstairs. i woke him up and whispered, "why does the whole house smell like SHIT!?" he started laughing and said, "oh, the dog crapped on the floor and picked it up and put in the trashcan in the kitchen...so that's probably it." (WHAT?!) why in gods name would you put smelly dog crap in the kitchen trashcan? i mean, my first thought would be to get it out of the house...but maybe that's just me. (men.) i came downstairs and removed the trash bag, opened all the windows, and went to town cleaning.

when my kids woke up from their naps, they were super excited to see me. (this is always a good feeling.) they also both looked like they had been through a war. ella's long hair was all over her head, carrie had crusty boogies on her face...and both were in their pajamas from the night before. (like i said, you just need to let some stuff go.) he said, "they didn't get a bath for a couple days, but i washed them down with a baby wipe before bed both nights." (oh good.) i will say that they were both very happy and ella said she had a good time with her dad. (see dress up picture.) i think they survived solely on ramen noodles and watched the movie frozen 23 times, but that's okay with me. (it's one weekend.) i also notice that whenever i have the chance to get away for a night or two, my husband seems to appreciate me more. it's like he realizes the 2347 things i do around the house and for the kids (and him) and he "gets it." this morning i said to him while making the kids breakfast, "if i die or something and you don't find someone right away, please do me one favor and hire a maid. i don't want our kids to live in squalor." he thought this was hilarious and stated that "it wasn't that bad." (not bad for a frat house, butch!)

dress up time this weekend with daddy.

so i started my first official day of spring break (for the next 7 days) this morning by playing short order cook for the people that live in my house, doing 2 loads of laundry, and pushing the race car cart around the grocery store with my two children pretending to steer. i decided to take both of them with me, even though warren was at home. i didn't want to send him over the edge by leaving again, even if it was for an hour. after a fun filled week, we are headed back up to my parents for easter this coming weekend and i'm hoping by then my dad finds a suitable jacket, his lee jeans, and has his pill prescription filled. however, i hope my parents still continue with their impromptu comedy skits, because they are entertaining to be around for sure. after this weekend, i was reminded that whether you are getting smacked in the back of the head by guilt or hit in the face with the smell of feces...you need to cut yourself some slack. there is no instruction manual on how to be a parent, so do the best you can with what you have...and hope for the best. more importantly, don't forget to schedule in some sanity maintenance (especially if you have toddlers) every once in a while...mainly so you don't end up wandering around walmart in your slippers while not wearing proper pants.

*as an added bonus, i've included the professional picture taken of me at the end of the race. if everything about this photograph doesn't say "pure athlete"...i don't know what does. actually, it looks like i'm either in severe pain...or pooping my own pants at the finish line. (whatever.) sanity maintenance complete...and onto another (wild) week.