Relaxing weekend not so relaxing
Weekend not so
December weekends are so filled with parties, visits and other obligations – though I love to get caught up with all of the people at the events – that sometimes I just wish for a quiet weekend at home during that busy time. A weekend spent doing only the basic necessities and then sacking out on the couch to watch TV all cuddled up with the kids isn’t too much to ask, is it?
This is one of the reasons I look forward to January. Everyone has generally had their fill of visits for a while, and there is not much scheduled. Weekends are ours to do with what we will. It is my idea of bliss after all of the commotion of the previous month.
So it was with eager expectation that this weekend approached. I planned to do the minimum amount of work possible and relax for the maximum amount of minutes available.
I believe Woody Allen said it best when he said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”
Saturday afternoon, my son got sick. He was fevered and throwing up and generally miserable. In a short amount of time, I had to add laundry to the list of necessary things to do.
He was sick all night. Despite a strategically placed bucket, he managed to make more dirty laundry for me. (And the pile of towels he used from his repeated showering was a load in itself.) To top it off, he didn’t want to be held or cuddled in any way.
Instead, I got to work and caught up on the laundry. I fed the family and did the dishes. The girls chipped in by dusting and running the vacuum. We even baked some pumpkin muffins.
By Sunday evening, the house was tidy, my son was starting to feel better and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate chips still wafted through the air. I even thought there was a chance of actually spending the rest of the day on the couches.
So it was with dismay that, when I went to sit down, I saw a dark spot on our couch. Upon further inspection, I discovered a pen had leaked all over the light-brown sofa, leaving a pair of ink spots. All further thoughts of relaxing went out the window as I spent the next couple of hours scrubbing and blotting blue ink from the fabric. By the time I got it to the “you can hardly tell” stage, it was bedtime for everyone.
I am not entirely disappointed, however. I know the day will come when the kids will be gone. I will have more time to lie on the couch, and less laundry to do. I will be able to pick up and go without considering carpools and practice schedules. And I will probably miss chasing after the kids all day.
I’ll just hold on to the thought that although we didn’t get to spend time together in the manner I had planned, we still spent the day together. We worked toward a common goal and achieved something. And then, while I scrubbed the ink from the couch, the girls curled up together and watched a movie without arguing, and that was good enough for me.
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