Anyway, about my foot, what's your name. Since I'm on crutches and not supposed to 'bear weight' on injured foot, I cannot do most of what I'm supposed to be doing as the Household Manager and Offspring Negotiator/Program Coordinator (HMONPC).
I like titles. It helps every year when I re-negotiate my health benefits.
Here's my current plan:
- at least 6-7 low-key happy hour get-togethers with close friend
- 1 always regrettable night out with the girls where I remind myself that I'm too old, too married, and too mom-like since I inevitably end this evening counseling a young girl about her choice of non-existent skirt/shirt/underwear and/or am called "ma'am"
- monthly book club attendance which is always canceled because no one ever reads the book
- at least 2 to 3 bottles of wine in rack at all times
- and, exercise time (exercise time may be substituted with "relaxing sleep-in time" in case wine consumption has interfered with sleep or exercise motivation)
But the point here is my broken foot. Since every activity I do as the HMONPC requires mobilization, my job duties have been severely affected. One household job this has devastatingly affected is Housekeeping. In short, the house appears to have been overtaken by the children.
It probably comes as no surprise that I don't like cleaning my house. I really, really don't. When I decided to stay home with the children, I had no idea what this would really mean. I envisioned my time at home as more Dead Poets Society. With tears in my eyes, I pictured the day when my children would stand up on their push-toys or high chairs in response to some inspiring mommy thing I just did and shout lovingly, "O Mommy, My Mommy."
I even downloaded some emotionally supportive music to play when this moment arrived. Maybe I need to show them the movie first.
The truth is that being a stay at home mom is nothing like being an inspiring English teacher at a private boy's school. I'm pretty sure there was not one scene where Robin Williams is vacuuming the classroom, cleaning the dorm kitchen, or for Pete's sake, doing the LAUNDRY.
And that is what I intended for this post to be about today...Laundry. It was going to be a well-defended thesis on why Laundry is the downfall of the modern mother. I had examples, pictures, interviews, and in-color charts.
Unfortunately, as my posts tend to be a bit LONG WINDED at times, I will have to shorten my well-thought out, informative, and mind changing case against Laundry into one concise, powerful, but equally true statement.
In summary, Laundry flippin' SUCKS.