The "sleep over" remnants including sleeping bag, pillows and mess still remain in the patio room (from Vinnie's sleep over LAST weekend)
The dresses I need to return to Kohl's are still in the suitcase I haven't fully unpacked from our trip to Kentucky (3+ weeks ago)
Ski clothes still in bags in the bedroom (Mike was holding out for one last trip)
Expense report for work, still not done.
Don't have flight yet for business trip to Europe...we leave in less than a month.
On the other hand, I DID make a salad for Williams baseball party AND attended it! Including this event that was the SECOND time I had seen the team...only made it to the last game. HOWEVER, Mike coached and I put up with LE's whining the whole season, so in my mind, that one's a wash.
I left the party early to go home and "tackle" the house. Mike was still at the party with the little kids, so I walked the two blocks home alone, fully enjoying the beautiful California day, filled with proud anticipation of saving the weekend by cleaning the house before sun down. When I walked into the house, I was hit with a reality I was NOT prepared for.
I honestly can't remember the last time I entered my house alone, without my arms full of groceries, my briefcase, a sleeping child...or all of the afore mentioned. And on the rare occasion that I am empty handed, I am immediately distracted by the wailing welcome (sometimes happy, sometimes not) of the kids, the ever present pressure to get someone someplace, by a certain time, or the attempt to make it quietly to my room in the semi dark without alerting my "house mates" who I hear going about their bedtime routine, upstairs.
When I walked into my quiet home today I was stunned by what I saw. The master bedroom looked like we were either moving in or out...a couple boxes (empty of course) the previously mentioned ski clothes, random piles of books and papers...as I moved through the home it was a toss up between "hit by a tornado" and "ransacked by robbers in a hurry." Perhaps to make myself feel better, I considered that the state of the home was in itself a deterrent to any would-be robbers, who upon entering would either think "too late, someone already hit this joint", or "forget it!". I imagined them quickly scanning the home for anything worth taking, "aha the Wii, but wait, where are the controllers and what happened to the antenna?" The flat screen in the patio/play room was safe because getting to it would mean navigating the sleep over remnants, the city of Groovy Girls, the half built hot wheels track and the "store" LE and William had set up with a LARGE selection of McDonald's toys, books with pages missing, Lego's and other treasures each tagged and priced to sell ranging from .50 to 10,000.00 (for an original painting by one of the kids).
As I thought about it, the only thing I could think of that might be of value is the ONE pair of "real" earrings I own...and that I haven't seen in I don't know how long. If my imaginary robbers had actually come across them, I decided they deserved to have them, my only hope would be that they would leave a note saying where the he** they found them!!
Gratefully, I was "awakened" from my experience by the familiar call of the wild, MOM?!, MOM!?, I'm starved, can you take me to get a burrito?" It was Jacob, my knight in shining armor, coming to rescue me from the harsh reality of my home. My quick and cheery response, "sure, let's GO!", clearly caught Jacob by surprise. On the way to High Tech Burrito, he asked if we could maybe go to the club for a swim. I explained that I would LOVE nothing more, but felt torn about having another weekend slip by without getting the house pulled together. "I know it may be hard to understand", I said, "but I hate going into a new week with all these things half-done...but then I think maybe I should just blow off the house...".
What happened next is the stuff Disney movies are made of... We got home with the burrito, and I got to work on the kitchen. Jacob decided his stomach wasn't feeling too good, so he went upstairs to take a shower and wash his face (I know, I don't get it either). Just as I was finishing the dishes and wiping down the counters, Jacob came down and said he had decided to clean his room, instead of taking the shower (See what I mean? Makes singing jungle animals and fairy princesses seem plausible.)
He saw the clean kitchen and said, "so, should we go to the pool?". "YES", I replied, "but let's hurry and get out of here before Dad gets home with the kids." And so we did, swim suits and iPad in hand.
Sitting here, now, with a mere 18 minutes left of this weekend, things look differently. Over the past 48 hours my oldest son attended his first graduation dinner dance (I snuck in and took pictures when he wasn't looking) , and won the second game in his first Pony league play-offs, my youngest son attended his first end-of-season baseball party (for which I made a delicious salad), Mike and I ate dinner together, I played monopoly with Willam, discussed the pros and cons of "skinny, high-heeled shoes" with my 8 year old daughter. The kitchen is clean, Jacob's room is picked up, and we had dinner at our dear friends, the Huber's (who are now left with the "ransakled or tornado" question to ponder). Thoughts of the unfinished expense report and unpacked clothes threaten to rob me of this moment...but I resist knowing there is plenty of time tomorrow, to worry about what WON'T get done the rest of this week!
Jacob spoke to me tonight!!! Well, that's exaggerating. He spoke while sitting next to me as we searched for apps. He suggested some free ones, but I was feeling giddy in light of his sitting close to me without a scowl on his face, and said we could look at some "paid" apps. The first one we chose, at .99 was the "Fart" app. It down loaded in a few seconds and before we knew it we were engaged in an honest to goodness "moment"! The "excuse me" was my favorite, while Jacob was a fan of the "silent but deadly".
Thank you Apple, for providing me the key to bonding with my teenager.
No depths are too far to sink when it comes to connecting with your kids, Lisa