Ah. Labor Day. No Work Day. Family Day. Relax Day.
I made enough lasagna to last the winter (or about a week). Folded about 20 loads of laundry. Watched 3 episodes of Orange is the New Black. Played ball with Riley. Vacuumed. Practiced my presentation and even wrote some stuff for Donnie.
When I realized this Labor Day seemed a bit laborious, I decided to sit down and relax.
But it’s tough to relax when…
My baby whines incessantly because he has four teeth coming in at the same time and I don’t know whether he’s hungry or he’s tired because he just woke up from his nap and is crying between bites of lasagna. The only time he’s happy is when he has a magnet in his mouth (should I be worried?).
And then I discovered that in the morning when I’d asked my 4-year-old to throw his laundry down the laundry shoot, he actually emptied all of the contents of his drawers down the laundry and that, that, was why the laundry pile was so mountainous. I look at the empty drawers, look down the laundry shoot, then back at the drawers. It looked as if most of those clothes were in the washer and dryer. Neat.
And then just as the night is about to wind down, the kids are literally getting in bed and my 9-year-old says she has homework. I tell her she has to wait until morning to do it because it’s too late and subsequently search her bookbag for other papers I might have missed. She sobs, “I don’t like people going through my bookbag!” Me: “I’m your mom.” Her: “You don’t understand me!”
I tell her to go make her lunch (10 min post bedtime) while I put the other delinquent into bed. At this point, he’s submissive. He’s already got his PJs on and teeth brushed. I kiss him goodnight and duck out of his room just in time to witness Anya staring at her crying self in the bathroom mirror. I try not to laugh. She apologizes, hugs me and heads to bed.
I think it’s more relaxing at work.