So, Sunday, I got almost three whole kid-free hours. Kid-free. No kids. Not even the little one.
We had a birthday party to attend and my husband said he would take them by himself if I would clean the boys' rooms while he was gone. That was the condition. Then, I could do whatever I wanted. Ummm...done deal. I would have cleaned the boys' rooms anyway.
So, how did I spend my time? First, I prepared dinner in the slow cooker. I know this isn't glamorous or even different from my usual daily routine, but believe me, to get to cook dinner without my 1 yr old pulling on my pant legs to be held and my 3 yr old demanding that I find his lost Obi Wan Kenobi doll was heaven. And enjoyable. I turned up the Carpenters (strange choice, I know, but all the CDs I have left that weren't stolen [see previous post] were in my car and my hubs took my car to the birthday party - plus, I secretly love the Carpenters - shhhh) and I sang as loud as I could - DON'T YOU REMEMBER YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME BAAAAABY - while I chopped onions and potatoes.
Then, I thought about cleaning the boys' rooms, but decided to take a kid-free shower instead. But first, I peed BY MYSELF without my 3 yr old standing in the doorway explaining the Han Solo in carbonite scene from Star Wars to me.
Then, I took my time in the shower - usually my husband is rushing me because he has to leave for work or it's 10 o'clock at night and I'm exhausted. This time, I actually got to shave my legs. And I might have even danced a little.
Then, I decided to blow out my hair with the hairdryer. Usually, I have to let my hair dry by itself or I go to bed with it wet, so when I wake up in the morning, I look like a zombie from the 1980's. Shiver.
About halfway through drying my hair, I realized that I still hadn't cleaned the boys' rooms. And I only had a few minutes left. Oops. Where did all the time go? I must have stepped into some kind of Carpenters time warp and danced in the shower longer than I thought.
So, with my hair half-dry, I ran into Max's room and started throwing toys in the toy box. Darth Maul, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker and about seven different Darth Vaders were flying through the air. I shoved his books in the bookcase, put his costumes in the closet (he likes to dress up like Spiderman, Yoda and Obi Wan Kenobi). I put his 36 million light sabers of various sizes and colors into a bin and then ran to Harry's room.
In Harry's room, I got a tad bit distracted. This has happened to me a lot since having kids. Something about taking care of children all day has given me ADD.
I used to be extremely focused, able to become completely engrossed in a book, anytime, anywhere. I was a very good student in school with high grades. Now, I am so used to multi-tasking, I can't sit still long enough to read a book. I can't even sit still and watch TV without doing something else at the same time, like folding laundry or working on the computer. And I don't finish anything I start anymore. I am waiting for the day when I don't finish getting dressed and I realize in the middle of Walmart that I have forgotten to put on my bra. Or that the back of my dress is tucked into my panties. And believe me, after having two kids, no one wants that.
So, in Harry's room, instead of cleaning, I began pulling out toys for a rummage sale and making piles all over his room - piles of stuffed animals, rattles, and oh! let's pull out all his shoes and make piles of those, too!
And then! Oh no! Max rounds the corner. I screamed! Oh crap. They're home. And Harry's room looks like a circus clown threw up.
Luckily, due to years of pre-marriage/baby parties and heavy drinking, my husband doesn't have a short-term memory. He never said a word about Harry's room looking like a bomb went off. Harry had fallen asleep in the car, so Steve brought him in the room, stepped over all the piles of toys and shoes, put Harry in his crib, and we all went out to the den. I don't think he even remembered our deal. No short-term memory.
Thanks, Bombay Sapphire!