TGIM

Thank God It’s Monday.

I think I might be one of the few people in this world that hates weekends. Why? Typically P is off flying on weekends. It’s depressing to see families out doing fun things together, watching all the Dads in the cul-de-sac playing ball or riding bikes with the kids in the street, hearing all the lawnmowers start up at the same time, and smelling the BBQ’s fire up on Saturday or Sunday.

Weekends are typically me juggling birthday parties alone with the boys, cleaning house, feeding time and trying to keep the peace amongst the boys (well Tyler).

Once P is home the dynamics in the house shift. Almost like the Red Sea has parted. Love love love dinnertime around here when P is home.
I can relax, have a glass of wine and engage in some adult conversation! It also consists of a thoughtfully planned out meal, typically something grilled to perfection along with a tasty veggie and yummy whole grain side.

A typical dinner when P is GONE:

Crap it’s 5:00pm and the boys need to be fed. Hurry what can I quickly heat up one-handed. Mind you D’s happy (fussy) hour starts now and he picks now to have to be held. T wants the same thing for dinner every single night (quesadilla) after arguing with him for 15 minutes he finally gives in to the 2 choices I offer. Another 5 minutes is arguing over what side of veggies or fruit he is going to have. All the while D is getting even more cranky. Poor kid gets his usual fruits and veggies from a pouch and maybe some cold pasta. He’ll inhale all this in about 35 seconds. So then I have to quickly find some kind of hard cracker that will at least sustain him another 3-5 minutes. T finally eats but of course asks for 20 other items to go along with his dinner. I eventually find something that resembles food for myself to eat. It is typically something I can shove in my mouth quickly while waiting for my frozen dinner to heat up. I then take all my vitamins and my Juice Plus (guilty conscience I guess). Just as I sit down to eat, D is done and starts throwing things on the floor. Take him out of high chair spend a few minutes cleaning him up and then locating a toy for him to occupy himself. It doesn’t work. Finally I succumb to allowing him to go through my wallet and purse. It’s a pain in the ass to reorganize but hey it buys me a good 8 minutes to scarf down my meal in peace.

Repeat for the next 3 nights.

You can see why I say TGIM.