The Sunday that wasn't


I threw another fit on Saturday night.  I think the Hubbs has had enough.  No matter.  My fit was about the fact that I feel like I'm giving myself away.  Like all of me.  All my time is accounted for by everyone but me.

Cry me a river, am I right?

Maybe it was because I found out that two of my besties are having dinner next Friday night for one of their birthdays and I have to work.  It's not the first time that this situation is going to happen, but it's the first one that always hurts.  Then I realized that I'd most likely have to request my own birthday dinner off and that depressed me.  

I closed three nights in a row last week.  That had it's pros and cons.  Pros because I got to spend the entire day at home.  I did some writing, some cooking, some lazy leisure time.  I was also able to take Mac to a Saturday morning doctor's appointment because she has croup.  Cons because the Hubbs had to work all weekend too, because I get home well after bedtime, both Friday and Saturday both kids were asleep when I got home.  Cons because I'm so tired when I get home all I want to do is zone out and have some time to myself.  Cons because this is also the time I turn into a horrible bitch.

So Saturday night after wasting some time on the Internets, talking to the Hubbs, I threw a fit before bed because I wanted to go to bed way earlier than I did, and because I realized that the next day, Sunday, was going to be filled with obligations.  Instead of the pajama filled, writing filled, watching horrible TV on the couch all day, Sunday I wanted.

It was going to be the Sunday that wasn't.

Of course he got pissed at my whining.  Then he laughed at me because I'm pretty funny when I get pissed.  I get totally unreasonable and over dramatic, and then I act like I'm going to cry over something stupid like Caitlin needing new underwear and me needing probiotics that can only be bought at Whole Foods which is like a half hour from my house. See, I get a little nutty in my haze of rage.  I went to bed last night listening to a coughing Mac and the idea that my Sunday was going to be filled with obligations and no time for me.  No time to breathe.  No time to relax.

It was going to be the Sunday that wasn't.

I woke up.  Or shall I say I was woken up by my human alarm clocks.  It wasn't early, but it was time.  We got up and did breakfast and baths.  Then we were off to Walmart for some epic grocery shopping.  We fit in some haircuts.  Per the Hubbs request we had a late lunch at The Olive Garden. Then Mac and I went to Costco.  It was packed full of obligation just like I thought it was.  But it was also packed full of life.

We spent the day together as a family.  I've missed these people while I've been at work. Navigating Walmart with the Hubbs who would rather be doing anything else that being in a Walmart, was fun. People watching with him was super fun.  Having a meal I didn't have to cook or clean up after. Watching my kids eat things they don't normally.  Enjoying some time with each other.  

I forget that sometimes happiness and life can seep into the list of obligations.  I forget that they seem less daunting if you do them as a team.  I tend to look at my to-do list and feel so small against something so mighty.  But like all things in life, it's one thing at a time, one step at a time, check off one item at a time.  Today was filled with obligations, but none of the negativity I thought it would have.

Is there still writing to be done and emails to answer?  Yes.

Is there laundry to do?  Yes, and dishes too.

Are my kids getting to be on time?  No, not at all.

Because this is the Sunday that wasn't.  It wasn't the relaxing, stay in our pajamas, forget about all the things on our list kind of Sunday.

This was the Sunday that was.  It was the spend the day together, packed in the car, under the groceries, eating at a restaurant, and driving around town kind of Sunday.  Together as a team, enjoying every single minute together, while we forget that it was the obligations that brought us together.  

Now as I type, my kids are still up watching the Grammy's, cheering for Macklemore and Justin Timberlake.  Of course they are, right?  

Because this is the Sunday that wasn't...



As bad as I expected.  In fact it was one to be remembered.