Sure….

On a normal trip to Target, I was checking out and making small talk with the cashier. Of course, it’s pretty exciting – adult conversation – even if it is about how great the produce sales are.

He is being polite and continues to humor this haggard housewife/stay-at-home mom by continuing our conversation and asking the basic questions.

Him – “So – the weather’s been nice.”

Me – “Yes – it’s been great. Can’t ask for more than 70 degrees in November.”

Him: “Can you believe it’s November already?”

Me: “I know. I just can’t believe it. Time flies.”

Him: “Aren’t you excited it’s almost the weekend?”

Me: “Sure…”

Then – the awkward pause – where time stands still since he probably expected me to bubble over and squeal with delight about the looming – erm – upcoming weekend. I almost started to do the “Robot” to get me out of the awkward silence – then thought twice and realized it would probably be even more awkward if I busted out my 80s moves….

The weekend.

I used to start my weekends on Thursdays. Happy hours started on Thursday. Go into class or work in a daze on Friday. Head to the mall after work to pick out another slutty – erm – ok fine – slutty outfit for the weekend festivities. Stay out til all hours of the night. Wake up Saturday around 10:30 am – 11:00 am – head to Starbucks or meet friends for brunch to decide what the plans would be for that night…and then head out to dinner before we hit the town and did our best impersonation of “Sex and City” in Dallas…

The weekend…

As a stay at home mom – my days and my child thrive on order. Thrive on schedules. Wake at 5:30am for a feeding, back to bed til 7:30, up for the day at 7:45am, etc, etc, etc. Me and Isabelle – our little dance of the daytime routine. Our routine 5 days a week. If we deviate with a play group – we alter the day accordingly and make sure we still get nap times and feedings in – but it’s easy when it’s just the two of us.

The weekend…and my husband is home. Now – I love my hubby. He’s a tall specimen of utter deliciousness. I can’t get enough of him. But when the weekend is here – I feel the need to be the best wife ever. Instead of scavenging for meals like I do during the week – really – there have been days where my lunch consisted of Veggie Booty and cakeballs because I was too lazy to make anything – I feel the need to make breakfast, lunch and dinner. Three meals, three sets of dirty pots/dishes, three episodes of cleaning the kitchen. This is all me – he would be happy with a bowl of cereal for breakfast, a hot dog for lunch and sloppy joes for dinner. But me – I don’t allow it – I can’t allow my hubby to have anything that isn’t homecooked…

The weekend…and we have birthday parties, showers, trips to the grandparents. Now I love all of these things. I love seeing friends and celebrating. I love going to Tatay’s house and Abuela’s house and getting spoiled. But Isabelle’s schedule is thrown off since she is held all day. Everyone ooh’s and ahh’s over her – I get it – she’s great – but SHE NEEDS TO NAP! Sorry….kind of got carried away. Babies who miss naps aren’t more tired for bedtime – they channel Satan somehow are really difficult.

The weekend…and we have clean-a-thons. Since my hubby is home, instead of relaxing with him on the couch – I feel the need to sweep and mop and scrub and launder and fold and dust and….you get it. I don’t like doing things in shifts during the week. If I can’t sweep and mop – which the two simultaneously go hand in hand – I just don’t do it. And if I do sit on the couch – my husband who wears a halo – grabs the vacuum to give me a break – starts to vacuum. I feel bad that he’s working and I’m watching “Overboard” on TBS again – get my tired butt off the couch and try to help.

The weekend…

I do love them still. It’s just not filled with the things of once before – late nights, short skirts, toddies….I just need to remember all the other stuff really doesn’t matter – who cares if we don’t get homemade pancakes (that’s what Mimi’s is for), or if we miss all of our naps, or the laundry doesn’t get done…it’s about spending time with the ones I love – Craig and Isabelle – and really – that’s all that matters…