Days Off Aren’t Really A Thing After Babies, Are They?
Does anybody with children remember what it’s like to have a day off? A REAL day off? Those days where you might not get out of your pajamas. You spend the day practicing how to eat for the day that you finally just say “fuck it” and become a life long fatty. I remember waiting for noon to happen and them to kick off the football so we could pour the first gin.
That’s what it’s like for all you Bitches out there sans babies.
Don’t get me wrong, yesterday was a pretty good day with the tiny humans. We had a couple of bumps along the way, but it was pretty fun. Not completely relaxing, but whatever. That’s what wine is for after they go to bed, right?
It was a pretty regular day, starting with a trip to the park, a fall off a swing. Rounded out the early afternoon with some mac n cheese, cartoons and a nap for Buddy. We made pizza dough and got all the stuff ready for dinner.
I was on my fifth load of laundry and feeling pretty satisfied with all the things I had accomplished on my day “off”. That’s when I got cocky. You’ve got to know your limitations, Bitches, or disaster will strike.
I decided that the dog’s nails needed to be cut. All three of them. Here’s a tiny piece of advice: If you need to engage in dog grooming activities while two toddlers are running wild in the same room, give your head a shake. Either lock the children up or just don’t try. Wielding sharp objects while wrestling a furry version of a greased pig with two toddlers literally climbing on your back is not advised. It causes accidents that result in copious amounts of blood all over the dog bed that I just fucking washed. It seriously looked like an Ebola field hospital in my living room. I was covered in blood, the dog had a tampon taped to it’s toe. I used up half a bottle of quick stop.
Know your limits, Bitches. Know your limits to what you can safely accomplish in a day.
Bathtime was the usual entertainment, thanks to Bestie’s insistence that the Destroyer learn how to wash her cookie. We had just bought a new duck shaped loofa, which she promptly shoved between her legs so that she could make her vagina quack. And the irony is that it kept coming out “cock”. Why? Because I am a terrible parent and laughed my fucking ass off.
Sometimes, whatever. just whatever.
Bedtime was bullshit, with an hour to get them sleeping from start to finish. A yelling match in between, lots of tears, threats of spankings, more tears, and the uncorking of a very bubbly bottle of wine at the conclusion.
So you see, Bitches, days off are not really a thing anymore. But I wonder if I kept the alcohol ingestion timeline from the old days if it would be more relaxing?
What do you do on your days off, with or without tiny humans?