The second lesson and additionally so wonderful- my loyal and loving husband, my beloved Danny... A self admitted workaholic (which I will hopefully come to terms with, in this, our third decade of marriage ;) ), recovering from Strep, he managed to support me through this first official strike day. Offering me a fresh cup of coffee this morning and the gift of a nap only a few hours after I had awoken, he really stepped up. This afternoon he invited me to a movie. Tonight he took the kids grocery shopping and joined me in the basement as I watched the Grammy's. He surprised me with his unwavering allegiance and yes, dark chocolate covered strawberries at the end of the Grammys. It's going to be admittedly difficult to walk upstairs now as I know the dogs have been crated too long, I don't believe the oven light or fan were ever turned off, and well - there is a path of cheese popcorn up the stairs and well into the kitchen... Should I tell them to let the dogs out as they are my two favorite quicker-picker-uppers. Can you say, "Come Hoover!? Come Swiffer!" Should I go remind the kids to brush their teeth and charge their laptops for school tomorrow?" I can't. Tomorrow is another day and the strike must go on. There's more learning on this curve. If you're looking for me, I have planned for a long yoga class in the mornin and I'm meeting a gal pal for lunch. I need to prepare for a hospice client as I'm looking forward to something special that I can bring for her on Valentine's Day, and then I'm going to clean out and reorganize the guest bedroom and unpack some of my girlie pink belongings and pictures. It will be interesting to see what it feels like to have the day be about me and not everyone else. And, if you are wondering, don't frett as I am of course taking the kids to school, the doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow, and to their after school activities but dinner and all things related to food, friends and furry folks is on the males in this house beginning at 3:30pm. "What's for dinner...?" Don't know. Not ready to cross the picket line. Better yet, what's going to happen tomorrow morning as the younger two are bright eyed and bushy tailed, shoveling cereal down as dinner didn't quite hold 'em. Hmmmm... It's 11:10 pm. Do you know where Mother is, boys? On strike. Good night. Novel's awaiting...
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Day Is Done...sorta.
It has certainly been a unique, relaxing and very important day. I set out to teach my family a lesson and in fact, it is I that has learned a lesson or two. First, I have finally come to realize and truly internalize what the many, many wise woman that have come before me have shared. The work of wife, Mother and homemaker is honorable in that it is selfless, constant and sadly often unrecognized by the individuals who benefit from it each and every hour of each and every single day, including Sundays...or in my case, Saturdays. My family has had a taste of all that goes missing when I am not working to take care for their every need but this experiment will continue because well, they enjoyed some of what they tasted but perhaps after a week or so that may get old fast.... Or not as the dinner menu had more preservatives than any human being should attempt to ingest in a lifetime and the kids were beaming with pride. (Though perhaps that "beaming" was a side affect of toxic chemicals turning their digestive tracts aglow?) Dinner menu: Dehydrated potatoe soup with chunks of lunch meat and shredded Mexican cheese, cheese popcorn and Pillsbury crescent rolls. Hey, at least they knew to pair a protein with a carb?