I still have shitforbrains and this weekend didn't help much.
It was a lovely weekend. Perfect weather. One day running into the next. A houseful of kids. In and out. Overnights. Back and forth.
Never ending sun. Never ending blue skies.
Never ending kids.
Which is fine.
The best part of the weekend was waking up Sunday morning, thinking it was Monday, then realizing not only did I not have to get up because it was Sunday, I also wouldn't have to get up on Monday. The thought of two more mornings to sleep in was just heaven.
Yes. I ignore my kids so I can and sleep in. It's been 12 years people! My kids can fend for themselves for a few hours on a holiday weekend morning. And if that means they eat double chocolate rocky road for breakfast, so be it.
I ignored them a lot this weekend. They roamed in and out of various houses, playgrounds, and backyards. They got savage tans. There were no fights. They all had a really good time together. Laissez-faire in motion.
It was good even when they set the patio on fire. Also while I was ignoring them. They had a blast. They asked if they could make another fire Sunday night and couldn't believe it when the answer was no.
But why not?
Daddy and I are going on a date and Amy's coming. You can't make a fire when Amy's here.
No fires. No matches. No lighters. No sparklers.
Can we just do sparklers mom?
No. No sparklers.
But why no sparklers? You can't set fire to anything with a sparkler.
Because sparklers need lighters. No lighters.
We promise we won't set any thing on fire.
No. No fire.
I'm the meanest fucking mommy around. Just ask them
Sunday and Monday at Splashdown. The local water park. It was a fucking zoo. But, because I am so good at ignoring them, I planted my ass on a chaise lounge in the shade and napped.
No one drowned.
Ty was mad, though. I wouldn't go on the new toilet bowl ride with him. I had no desire to drag a double inner tube up six flights to sail down a plastic tunnel into a ginormous plastic bowl and circle a plastic drain to get pooped out into a swimming pool.
He said I was mean.
So I took them to McDonald's. Fuck it. I ate a quarter pounder with cheese and refilled my cup with Coke on the way out.
You only live once.
Mia got stung on her eyelid and the whole thing swelled shut. I gave her a dose of benadryl and she fell asleep in the bathtub while I was rearranging the plants on the porch.
At 7:30 this evening, Ty says to me mom, tell me about when I was a baby...
OK. To make a long and painful story short, Ty has an autobiography due tomorrow.
Right. Birth to present. With pictures and a table of contents. Due tomorrow.
I have a friend whose oldest child is 15. For as long as I can remember, she has stayed up until ridiculous hours the night before a big project was due because her son waited till the last minute. She basically does the project herself cause it's super important that her kids do well in school.
Not me. Being the mean mommy that I am, it's sink or swim as far as I'm concerned. I don't get mad. I don't yell. I don't punish or threaten. Instead, I say in a calm, even voice
A whole project honey? And you waited till tonight? Wow, that's messed up.
and Ty says mom why do I always do this?
I don't know, honey.
I'm a procrastinator said like you'd say nazi or slave owner or pedophile
So here we are. Both of us writing away. Me telling him stories about himself of which he has no memory. Me being forced to recall highlights of his first year, second year, third year.
It's all a big blur.