What Would You Do With 18 Hours?
I’m coming off of 18 hours of complete bliss. How so, you ask? Hubby took the kids to his parents’ house, so that I could get a much needed break. Amen.
Here is how those 18 short, sweet hours flew by, in order from greatest to least:
13 hours: in bed. 12 hours sleeping, 1 hour reading. Yes, you read that right, 12 hours sleeping. And I don’t even have the flu or anything. I am just completely exhausted. I can honestly say that in all my life, I have never been this worn out. Even when I was working in the corporate world, pulling all-nighters for new business pitches, I was not this deep-down in your bones tired. The kind of tired that comes from caring for your family, and rarely yourself, 24/7. Take that, Hilary Rosen.
2 hours: watching mindless tv. Think Young & the Restless. Don’t judge. It’s not any trashier than reality tv. And thankfully, it’s not real, which is why I can stomach it and take it for the joke that it is. Besides, watching ridiculous people with all their crazy problems and schemes makes me feel better about my boring, little normal life.
1 hour: shopping for new shoes for Baby Boy. Why would I not spend this time shopping for myself, you ask? Because taking Baby Boy shoe shopping is one of those most-likely-to-end-in-public-humiliation-events that I’d do just about anything to avoid. So, I calmly and quietly walked into the store, picked out the size I needed, paid and left. No screaming, no tantrums, no drama. I may have just “wasted” an hour of my free time, but I probably added an hour to my life.
1 hour: picking up dinner for myself. I went extra naughty and ordered a full-fat pasta dish with a side order of chocolate lava cake. And don’t forget the wine. No chicken nuggets, no throwing food, no sour faces whining, “Eww, I don’t like that!” Just me and my fat grams.
30 minutes: taking a nice, long, deliciously warm bubble bath. And reading my book in the tub. Without little people coming in, stripping & trying to join the party.
30 minutes: leisurely drinking coffee and watching the morning news in my favorite chair. Yes, it took me several minutes to clear off the granola bar wrappers, wayward legos and goldfish crumbs, but it was totally worth it. However, it was almost eerie not having to bob & weave with my coffee cup to avoid having it ripped out of my hands by Baby Boy, emptied and smashed on the tile floor. Or not hearing Big Sister whining that the news is boring, and she’s missing “Shake It Up” which will obviously scar her for life.
So, there you have it, folks. My 18 hour wild-ride of freedom, in all its glory. I hope I have not made you too jealous.
And thanks to this brief time off the gerbil-wheel, I am able to scoot back one toenails’ length from the edge of insanity. Sound familiar?