Why is it that husbands do the most helpful things at the worst fucking times? I was simultaneously cleaning up from dinner, packing daycare lunches and trying to convince two toddlers to brush their teeth when my dear husband declared that the freezer had been “running for three days”. He absolutely couldn’t take it anymore, and apparently needed to fix it right then and there. It was 7pm (also known as bedtime) and I didn’t even realize that a freezer could “run”- but what do I know?
I watched silently as he started to take frozen food products out and place them on the back deck. I watched as he pulled out his screw driver and took off the entire front door of the freezer. I watched as screw after screw came off of that thing; and before I knew it, he had the entire freezer dismantled and was using my blow dryer to speed up the defrosting process so he could remove the back panel. The clock ticked away and as time ate deeper and deeper into bedtime, my blood pressure rose. There was no way either kid was going to bed with this damn blow dryer blasting.
It didn’t surprise me that both of my boys were immediately interested in what he was doing and crowded over him as he did his handy work. I shushed them away, taking my attention away from cleaning the kitchen and packing their lunches. The entire thing was obnoxious and I was definitely annoyed.
At that moment, I looked over to the fridge and saw a photo from our wedding day- we were both smiling brightly, without a care in a world. Our innocent smirks pissed me off. It was at that point that I realized that I feel like I am always annoyed at something, and as I peered into the eyes of a happy, skinny-bitch bride on her wedding day, I wondered just how I had turned into a tired, jaded shell of my former self.
12:45am Unravel myself from my warm, comfortable covers and sleepwalk into the littlest one’s bedroom to retrieve his lost pacifier that he’s crying about. Return to bed.
2:45am Search under 3yr old’s bed for lost sippy cup, give up hope, refill new cup in kitchen, hand to toddler and return to bed.
3am Listen to husband snore. Finally go back to sleep.
5:30am Retrieve the littlest one’s pacifier again. Pray he goes back to sleep and isn’t up for the day. Lie in bed for 10 minutes contemplating if I should just get up or not. Finally fall back asleep after trying to block out sounds of 3yr old and husband snoring this time.
6:15am 3yr old hops into bed, bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to start the day. Attempt to get him to fall back asleep in our bed. Fail miserably. Get kicked in the back, elbowed in the face and finally body slammed by 3yr old before getting up because littlest one is awake anyway, and shocker- can’t find his pacifier.
6:30am Put 3yr old on potty to pee. It’s been a whole week without diapers and I’m really proud of him.
6:45am Make breakfast, wrangle clothes on both boys, put away clean dishes from night before.
7am Get in shower. Spend three glorious moments alone before littlest one barges in and demands to join me.
7:30am Late for work. Littlest one is running around naked.
7:45am Pack school bags, Kiss everyone goodbye and get a toddler sized jelly filled hug, leaving a stain on my blouse.
7:50am Attempt to wash out stain in bathroom sink. Successful. No time for drying, get in car with wet shirt.
8:30am-1pm Be professional. Answer 102 emails, phone calls and client meetings.
1pm Have adult conversation with pretty, younger and much more energetic co-worker. Attempt to feign sympathy as she complains about her friend who is vacationing in Paris and just dropped $6k on a new Chanel bag. It was the same one pretty co-worker wanted when she was there this past fall, but just in a different color. Look down at my own $40 Kohls purse and remember how happy I was that I had a gift card because I had just shelled out $2k for the month’s daycare tuition bill.
2:15pm Realize I haven’t eaten lunch. It’s too late now- retrieve a shitty Luna bar from my desk that tastes like cardboard. Pretend it’s a snickers.
3:56pm Stupidly answer the phone at work. Supposed to leave in 4minutes to pick up kids but get caught in 15min business conversation.
4:10pm Get in car. Have approx 35 minutes to drive the 45minutes it takes to get to daycare. Speed a little on the highway.
4:20pm Freebird comes on the radio. Turn it up, roll down the windows and sing off-tune as loud as I can for the entire duration of the 8minute song.
4:28pm New song comes on the radio- decide not to change the volume and continue blasting music entire way to daycare.
4:46pm Pull into daycare. Only 1minute late. Realize it’s jammed packed with cars. Attempt to parallel park. Do a shitty job. Realize music is still blasting and fellow parents are giving me weird looks as The Beastie Boys blare from my car. Turn down music. Decide not to fix crappy parking job and fellow daycare father makes a joke at my expert parking as I walk in.
4:50pm Best part of the day- Greeted enthusiastically by both mini maniacs that I call my own. Huge hugs followed by immediate whining that they want a snack, want to go somewhere fun, don’t want to go home and by all means do not want to get into the car. Too bad. We’re not going anywhere fun and we are going home. Bribe children to get into carseats with stale crackers and promises of fun activities when we arrive home.
4:52pm Both kids have successfully taken off their shoes and socks in the back seat.
5:10pm Arrive home. Experience de ja vu as both boys burst into tears when they realize daddy isn’t there. Whhhhhhy is he at work? Where is his truck? How come he isn’t here NOW?! Promise he will be home soon. Both calm down and an entire new meltdown starts as they both demand to be the first one taken out of their carseats. I wonder how long it is until bedtime.
5:15pm-7pm It’s a whirlwind of Play-doh, crayons, markers and books peppered with them fighting over the same toy, laughing, beating each other up, and laughing some more. I clean out lunchboxes, start dinner and start making lunches for the next day. Daddy comes home and both kids are so happy to see him you’d think the President of the United States has walked in the door. I’m happy to see him too. Bathtime and pjs happen. I do not sit down once. Husband is exhausted from working outside all day. He doesn’t get to sit down either.
7pm Husband chooses to tackle the freezer issue.
7:30pm Littlest one goes to bed. Hair dryer is still blasting.
8pm Freezer is fixed. Screw is missing. Husband is pissed. Littlest one is blamed, and while we’re both lying on the kitchen floor with flashlights looking under cupboards for the missing screw, husband and I argue over whether or not we think littlest one possibly ate the screw.
8:15pm Screw is never found. Husband has no choice but to put the whole thing back together, sans screw. New, annoying rattling sound comes from freezer because it’s missing the screw.
8:20pm 3yr old goes to bed.
8:30pm Finish lunches, try to unwind by suggesting movie on Amazon Prime. It’s a murder mystery set in England and when we turn it on we realize we can’t understand one word being said because everyone is talking so fast in an accent. Spend 25minutes arguing, trying to turn on the closed captions while trying to read lips and figure out what’s going on.
8:55pm After beating up the remote control and scouring the Internet, realize that Amazon Prime Video does not in fact support Closed Captions. Give up on movie and turn it off.
9pm Freezer is still rattling.
9:30pm Decide to go to bed, annoyed.
10pm Littlest one wakes up.
He’s looking for his pacifier.