Yesterday I did something I never thought I would do. It felt so naughty. So wrong. Taboo. But I had no choice really. I did what I had to do for the greater good of the family.
You see, on the mornings I take Savannah to school I get up and dressed before moving on to getting the kids their clothes on, breakfast made, teeth/hair brushed, etc. It’s just easier. But herein lies the problem. If I am dressed, hair (sort of) fixed, and makeup (sort of) applied, I don’t feel like getting down to the nitty gritty of doing any household chores, other than maybe tossing some clothes in the dryer or straighening up the kitchen. Mopping the floor or scrubbing the toilet in my wrinkle-released yoga pants seems kinda June Cleaver-ish, sans the pearls, in a new millennium sort of way.
Last week my hubby, in a moment of sheer male stupidity no doubt, cancelled my monthly housekeeper…AND didn’t tell me…until I wondered why she never came at our appointed date and time…AFTER I had let the house “go” for a few days because I thought she would be here. (I thought about posting something about this the day it happened but I couldn’t seem to write anything without 4 letter expletives attached to it, so I refrained.)
Now, because of the set of given circumstances something was going to have to give! Savannah had to go to school. I had to get the house cleaned. If I cleaned myself up for the day, I just wouldn’t get as much done. So I didn’t.
I got up and immediately went to work in the laundry room. Sorting, washing, drying, folding. Then the kids got breakfast. I moved on to the master and living areas. Picked up and prepared for vacuuming. Beds made. Trash cans emptied. The kids got dressed, combed, and brushed. They watched some TV. I worked up a sweat in no time flat and then we had to pile in the car for school.
Savannah looked at me strangely: “Mommy, you are still in your pajamas”. It was true. But in my defense the shirt was a tank top. The pants, definite pj bottoms. Nobody’s going to see those though! Geez! And it worked. I got more accomplished yesterday morning than I had all week.
And it was strangely freeing driving down the highway in my pajamas. I was a rebel. A rebel WITH a cause. A cause to let the other moms in the morning carpool lane know (especially the perky, Ann Taylor loft looking, completely tanned and manicured one…you know who you are), it is perfectly acceptable to let yourself go for the good of the family fortress. Well, every once in a while anyways. At least often enough for your husband to have pity on you and hire your housekeeper back.
Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did.
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