Prozac, and lots of it. (Oh, that would be a short blog, huh?)
No, no, you get the full page, here we go:
Step 1: When you wake up in the morning and your children are bickering incessantly, pretend they are someone else’s children. Like your husband’s. He can deal with them. Go back to sleep.
Step 2: When your children whine and complain that they are sick of “boring old cereal” for breakfast again, ask them if they like camping. When they say yes, remind them that campers eat cereal for breakfast. Tell them they are “practice camping” and see how their attitude changes!
Step 3: When your children can’t find their homework and blame you for it (?), send them to school without it. Remember back to the time when you were a small child and forgot your homework and how bad you felt. Feel sorry for them. Ah, what the heck, they’re kids! They’re resilient—they’ll bounce back. Maybe.
Step 4: After you put the kids on the bus for school, try not to say, “Mondays are the best!” out loud in front of all the other bus-stop parents. Thinking it is okay, but not saying it.
Step 5: When your husband calls you from work and you happen to be catching up on your TiVo’d episodes of your favorite show TopChef, try to sound really really busy. Maybe mute the TV during his call (you can rewind that part in a minute). When he asks you what you’re up to, just say you “have a lot going on and need to get going”.
Step 6: When your boss calls you from work and asks if you can pick up two shifts at the high-end kitchen store, look at your completely blank calendar and tell her you’ll have to get back to her. Doodle little stick people in pencil all over the margins of your calendar. Call her right back. Apologize and tell her you “already have something penciled in for those dates” but wish you could help. While you have her on the phone, ask her if those blue checked place-mats went on sale yet and when your Christmas bonus is going to come through.
Step 7: Tell yourself that you are going to work-out in your nice basement gym. Walk down there and look at exercise bike. Look at cd player and wonder where your 80’s cd is. Go back upstairs and look for it. Maybe it’s in the kitchen. While you’re in the kitchen, decide to have a few small tiny spoonfuls of Ben and Jerry’s. Sit down on couch with pint container because it is too frozen to chisel out the spoonfuls. Turn on House Hunters for a few minutes while you wait for ice-cream to soften up a bit. Perhaps eat entire pint and watch three full episodes of House Hunters. Think about working-out tomorrow instead.
Step 8: Go upstairs to write blog. Try to think of funny things the kids said. Funniest thing you can come up with is older son saying “slow folks” instead of “slow pokes” and younger son calling hand lotion “lotion-izer”. Decide to maybe not write about kids today after all.
Step 9: Walk into kitchen and decide to make dinner for once in your life. How hard can it be to make pasta? Root through the cupboards to assemble crucial ingredients. Find missing homework in random drawer (?). Notice that you are dangerously low on wine. Panic.
Step 10: Decide you still have time to zip to the corner market before you pick up the kids from the bus-stop. Take $20 out of your older son’s piggy-bank (
Step 11: Pick up the kids at the bus-stop. Loudly ask them in front of everyone else if they would like to do some special art projects and read books together when you get in the house. Once you are safely inside the front door, all have a good laugh about that and turn on the TV to Penguins of Madagascar.
Step 12: When your husband walks in the door, tell him you picked up his dry cleaning, cleaned the entire house, made dinner, and already gave the kids their baths. Have a good laugh because, really, that’s the secret to a good relationship, isn’t it? Laughter.
("Masquerade Of Valor")