5:30 am / Wake up. Don’t know why. Sun peeking out from blinds. Not sure since oldest son kicked me out of bed so he could sleep next to Daddy. Not complaining. Both snore and/or elbow me. Go back to sleep.
6:00 am / Wake up again. Put last load of husband’s laundry into dryer. Go back to sleep.
6:02 am / Can’t sleep. Let dogs out. Empty dishwasher. Load dishwasher. Various chores until husband wakes up.
Blur of hair ties, finding socks, pouring cereal until 7:40 am. Son decided last night to miss school in order to bring Daddy to airport. Daughter wanted to go to school but realizes she would not be able to walk home with brother. Abruptly changes mind.
8:05 am / Slowing down at Starbucks. Hates spending $$$ on dessert at Starbucks especially for the tablespoons of sugar they call “Cake Pops” but eh. Don’t dare say NO today. Probably not until Sunday. Sunday is when I put foot down. Don’t tell the kids. Son reads excerpts of the Do-It-Yourself Diary of a Wimpy Kid book he filled out by himself to Husband. Every fourth word is POOP. That’s nice.
8:40 am / Go to drive thru of, according to Husband, the best Mexican restaurant at a gas station. Order Heaven in a styrofoam box, also known as chilequilas which is in essence, a nacho omlette and OMG. It’s good.
8:42 am / Leave drive through. Kids try to give their order. WHAT?! Promises to buy Mexican food after dropping Daddy off at airport.
9:40 am / Goodbyes at airport. No tears. Not yet.
10:15 am / Kids are hungry but Rubios not open. Mom has kids do homework, read, and/or watch educational video until restaurant opens.
12:00 noon / Lunch at Rubios. Cookies from cookie shop next door.
1:00 pm / Resume educational work at home. Play with dogs. Allowed to watch a few shows when done with all homework. Eat dinner later and wait for friend to pick up kids. Eat last of emergency chocolate at 2:00 pm.
6:00 pm / Back to School night at kids’ school. Both teachers are amazing and understanding. Look forward to assisting teachers any way I can this year. Help with PTA Membership/Clothing Table.
8:30 pm / Pick up kids who just got out of the pool. Kids are starving. Make kids bathe/shower quickly. Warm up leftover BBQ that Daddy made the other day.
9:00 pm / Whining begins. Already way past bedtime. Already burned off dinner. Already got a text saying Husband landed safely.
9:15 pm / Tuck kids in bed. Listen to son cry and say, “I want Daddy to tuck me in!” over and over. Try to cheer him up but know it will fail. “Why can’t Daddy live here?” Usually a very logical kid but he cannot think right now. Only feel. Promise to check on him soon.
9:20 pm / Tuck girls in bed. No complaints. Yet. I give it two days.
9:21 pm / Stomach cramping. Probably should not be making homemade chicken nachos, using chicken from Husband’s BBQ.
9:45 pm / Remembering peanut butter chocolate chip cookie that I didn’t eat still in pantry. Mentally creating To-Do List for tomorrow.
10:00 pm / Still remembering peanut butter chocolate chip cookie that I didn’t eat still in pantry. Mentally erasing To-Do List for tomorrow. Everything can wait, except for the kitty litter duty. Ew. Definitely will have to do that one tomorrow.
10:05 pm / Still remembering peanut butter chocolate chip cookie that I didn’t eat still in pantry.
10:10 pm / Still remembering peanut butter chocolate chip cookie that I didn’t eat still in pantry.
10:15 pm / Still remembering peanut butter chocolate chip cookie that I didn’t eat still in pantry.
10:16 pm / Disgusted watching a local news clip about an owner who wanted to put down his beautiful 12 year old chocolate lab… and there was nothing wrong with the dog! WHAAAAAAAT?! Shelter decided NOT to put down the dog and is going to put him up for adoption. Stop. I’m not going to adopt the dog. Can’t say I didn’t think about it though.
It is going to be a long weekend and it isn’t even Friday yet. So many friends have checked in with me and shown their support. Will need support next week to help me kick the sugar-habit, hint hint.
Will check up on son tonight. Will head upstairs soon to put as much space as possible between me and that damn cookie.