June had it easy in life-her only responsibilities were her home, children, and keeping herself presentable. This June, however, has a 9-5. Yes I feel blessed to have a job and one that grants me time with my children in the summer, but two weeks ago it was curtains on the summer siesta and I returned back to the grind. Normally my children attend a daycare center, but this year for my first weeks back to work it was Daddy daycare.
The hubs, like lots of dads, works a job that eats up much of his life and when he is in the strength coach mode he is more of an enigma than he would prefer, so the time he spent with the babes was priceless. On the contrary what was not priceless was the state of my house and kiddie supplies when the good times wrapped. Like most men, my husband is not a multi tasker. Let's face the truth, it is not a man's style to play with the kids while straightening up the living room and knocking out 4 loads of laundry. Those bastards are just not equipped for such feats of mental strength.
Taking my chillins to daycare everyday meant that my house stayed empty and therefore clean and uncluttered, but when 2 Tasmanian devils are home all day nothing is left undisturbed and all bets are off on the "clean issue." There was nothing I loved more after a full work day than to come home to a living room that had been hit by an F5 tornado and the aftermath. Or the dishes that were eating up all my counter and sink space, and demanded my attention before I created one of my amazing family dinners. But the icing on the cake was the state of my husband-exhausted, stressed, and ready to escape to the office for the night. As he told my girlfriend, "This shit is no joke." DUH! Did he think it's easy to wrangle and entertain a 4 and 1 year old all day. Welcome to my world chump.
My house hasn't been messier or my children dirtier from playing outside all day, but my babies could not have been happier. However, at one point about half way through I came home to every bottle and sipping cup missing and all 8 pacifiers M.I.A. When I asked the very tense hubs where I may find all the required supplies he curtly replied, "Shit I have no idea." And I truly believe he had no idea. Hell, most of the two weeks may just be a blur of whining and giggles. So the next time he is not sympathetic to my complaints I will kindly mention his Mr. Mom stint and hope it evokes some compassion. But if it doesn't I will be sure to plan a girls weekend and allow him to reminisce on his stay-at-home dad days.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
a two-wheeler experience
The Cleaver Bi-Annual Family Road trip was a success. Damon and I safely delivered two grandbabbies for much awaited reunions with their kinfolk. As to be expected, the car ride was stick two knitting needles in your eyes amazing, but nevertheless the positives out weighed the negatives and lasting family memories were made for all, except Nellie, who is only along for the ride at this stage in her career.
A true memory maker for Magnus was the "new to him" bike my parents created for his enjoyment. His name was on the side of the yellow old timer, and the girls bar was manlied-up with a Steelers bumper sticker. The true enjoyment of the bike for Magnus was the new freedom it granted him, and his ability to succeed at a new adventure. The benefit for us in the acquisition of the training-wheeled two-wheeler was the small amount of hair it put on our "nervous pervous" son's chest, the nickname we affectionately coined for him on the start of the trip.
For Damon and I the trip put the concept of the bicycle into perspective. The joy of a bike is our ability to quickly take back to riding even after a long layoff, and as we discovered the joy of old friends falls suit. Being back in our stomping grounds was comfort, the friends we visited have been with us since we rocked life's training wheels. And just like the bike it takes little effort to fall right back into our friendships even after years or months spent apart.
If life is a journey than "bicycle friends" are the means of transportation, and the highlight for Ward and I on our vacation was the amount of miles we logged reminiscing with all our pals. A trip isn't a trip if Damon and I aren't blowing through tolls on the Expressways, and promising aloud to worry about it later. Also shaking our booties in the car to stay awake after we kicked it with the sexiest ladies and MILFS in the Chicago area. The hospitality shown to us was out of sight, and very humbling. Damon said it best when I approached him for our third trip from my Parent's house back into the 'burbs, "We didn't drive 800 miles to not see everyone we want to see." And as I reflected on the trek home I was comforted in knowing that we achieved our goal.
A true memory maker for Magnus was the "new to him" bike my parents created for his enjoyment. His name was on the side of the yellow old timer, and the girls bar was manlied-up with a Steelers bumper sticker. The true enjoyment of the bike for Magnus was the new freedom it granted him, and his ability to succeed at a new adventure. The benefit for us in the acquisition of the training-wheeled two-wheeler was the small amount of hair it put on our "nervous pervous" son's chest, the nickname we affectionately coined for him on the start of the trip.
For Damon and I the trip put the concept of the bicycle into perspective. The joy of a bike is our ability to quickly take back to riding even after a long layoff, and as we discovered the joy of old friends falls suit. Being back in our stomping grounds was comfort, the friends we visited have been with us since we rocked life's training wheels. And just like the bike it takes little effort to fall right back into our friendships even after years or months spent apart.
If life is a journey than "bicycle friends" are the means of transportation, and the highlight for Ward and I on our vacation was the amount of miles we logged reminiscing with all our pals. A trip isn't a trip if Damon and I aren't blowing through tolls on the Expressways, and promising aloud to worry about it later. Also shaking our booties in the car to stay awake after we kicked it with the sexiest ladies and MILFS in the Chicago area. The hospitality shown to us was out of sight, and very humbling. Damon said it best when I approached him for our third trip from my Parent's house back into the 'burbs, "We didn't drive 800 miles to not see everyone we want to see." And as I reflected on the trek home I was comforted in knowing that we achieved our goal.
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