“Mommy, even when you blow it, you are still the best Mom ever.”
And so begins a week without my spouse, who is currently in Belize doing mission work.
I no longer get wigged out by my spouse being out of town, or the country for that matter. Many Moms hold down the fort alone every day. Who am I to complain if George is gone maybe once or twice a year?
Only, (and here comes a tiny whine), my spouse does a TON around this house. A TON. As in, cleans the house. I'm the organizer. He's the sanitizer. I tidy. He scrubs. Without complaint.
I know. Sexy.
The first few days went well enough. The biggest item on my personal plate was finishing P90X. I wasn't about to miss my graduation date after 90 days of physical, mental, and emotional focus. I sat the kids down and explained that with Daddy gone, we were one team member short. Meaning, the three of us would have to band together and help each other.
And Mommy really needed to exercise if this week was going to go smoothly.
Not two hours later, while holding chaturanga, I was interrupted by two miniature people asking if they could have cookies.
My calm and cool response?
Post work-out, when I had calmed down enough to speak to the children as people, I challenged Harper to lower herself into the pose I was previously holding and attempt to hold a conversation.
"Ohhh. Sorry Mom."
Zane added, "I didn't interrupt while you were working out. I just held up the cookies. Silently."
No dice, brother.
They were denied cookies.
Harper got sick.
What?! What part of “TEAM” did she not understand?
The dog vomited. A case of “My Alpha isn't here” nerves. Her anxiety didn't end with vomiting.
We forgot to include Scout in our “TEAM” meeting.
Zane slept too deeply one night. As in toooo deeeply . . . had to strip the bed the next morning.
I forgot to put out our massively overflowing cans of recyclables on Monday morning (George's job) which means they won't be picked up until May 2. I then had to stealthily navigate the mine field of dog excrement in the back yard while cleaning up each treasure mound Scout had left me during this RAINY week (George's job). Then, there's the math homework. (George's job). This morning, after missing trash pick-up last week, I let a “D*&N!” fly during breakfast as I noticed the truck passing our house and heading down the alley before I had a chance to get the stuffed cans out to the curb. (One of those cans included my prize winnings from the pooper-scooper party).
“Mom! Did you just say what I think you did?” asked a very surprised Harper.
“Absolutely! Now get up and flag them down while I drag the cans out!”
We made it.
See? We're a team after all.
But we desperately need our star player back.