I had a very busy Thursday, which was followed by a very busy Friday.
And then I chased that with a very busy Saturday.
Which is why I went to bed at exactly 7:30 last night.
I know! It’s ridiculous, and I’m not even making that up. Somewhere, a twenty-something reader of this blog just sighed and said, “Well, that’s it. This blog is about an old woman who goes to bed before Happy Hour is even over on the weekend. I can’t read this stuff any longer.”
So be it.
Long ago, in the dark ages of my first toddler (which was the boy), I somehow managed to get things done around my house. I also managed to judge mothers who would sigh and say, “I just can’t seem to EVER get the vacuuming accomplished any longer, because of TODDLER IN THE HOUSE!” Mmm-hmm. And whatever. The boy was fantastic at entertaining himself for sixty straight minutes as a tiny tot. I never struggled at being able to run my vacuum cleaner all over my little house, and I still found time to scrub down the toilet, mow the yard, and slaughter a deer and cook its hindquarters for dinner.
Fast forward an entire decade and then some, and now Hubs and I have our second toddler, and listen. I don’t know if it’s a decrease in my bone density or the fact that I now need more time spent in bed, lying flat on my back, so that gravity works in my favor to pull the wrinkles back OUT OF my face, but I don’t get anything accomplished around my house these days in the form of cleaning.
And that is why I’d like to crawl into Doc Brown’s DeLorean time machine and punch in the year 2001. I’d go back and tell my former self, when the boy was one and a half, that some toddlers are just FULL ON, with one speed of ROCKET-TYPE OF FAST. These toddlers also put Spider-Man to shame when it comes to climbing things, and they have the ability to wear an adult smack-flat out. I’d pull my former self aside, and I’d whisper in her ear, “Do not judge these woman who have messy hair and glazed looks in their eyes, because you will be them in another twelve years. And your house will look like a perpetual garage sale. Also… your skin may be great right now, but please invest in some very expensive moisturizers and apply them liberally. Your 2013 self will thank you for this.”
And that, people, was a lot of words to tell you this: Because I have a toddler, and because Sister has a toddler, and because both of our houses were getting a little rough around the edges (as well as a little rough in the center and everywhere else), the two of us have decided to team up and accomplish some things together.
On Thursday, Thing 2 and I spent the day at Sister’s house, scrubbing. We slaved away like we were preparing the place for an Inaugural Ball. We vacuumed and steam-cleaned the floors. We sanitized bathrooms and made them glow. We picked up, wiped up, cleaned up and wore blisters into our skin.
On Friday, Sister came over to my house, and we repeated Thursdays actions. Our mama also showed up, because she cannot sit still and her greatest joy in life comes from helping others. She rang my doorbell at 8:30 Friday morning and said, “I heard y’all were cleaning over here, and I’m here with my own vacuum cleaner.”
There ain’t never been a housewife in history who turned an offer like that at the front door down!
Hubs called at 5:30 on Friday evening, just as we were finishing up, and said, “I’m going to bring home pizza. I figured it was the least I could do for a wife who has been power cleaning.”
Jesus added twenty-seven diamonds that night to the crown He’s preparing for Hubs.
On Saturday, Beth Moore (Bible teacher extraordinaire and winner of THE BEST HAIR AWARD FOR GIRLS OVER THIRTY, in my book) was having an all-day simulcast. Of course I was fully in, because BETH MOORE, Y’ALL! BETH!! MOORE!! Sister and Bethany and I all showed up at Katie’s house bright and early, with snacks galore. We bought the simulcast off the Internet, and barely paid a lick of attention while Katie’s husband, Paul, did things with wires and cords and buttons, so that Katie’s laptop was hooked up to their big screen TV. And then we kicked back with homemade cinnamon rolls and every manner of raw vegetable you have ever seen, smeared in hummus and homemade ranch dressing, and we got ourselves a WORD!
I took four entire pages of notes, while Hubs wrestled the boys around at home and made two trips to Walmart.
By 7:30 Saturday night, I was so beat, I could no longer string coherent sentences together, so I went to bed.
When Thing 2 got up at 5:15 this morning, Hubs GOT UP WITH HIM, while I went back to sleep until 7:15.
And that’s when Jesus added forty-one more diamonds and a couple of emeralds to Hubs’ future crown in Heaven.
Today there was church, and then I was back at Sister’s house, helping her attack little Cousin H’s closet. She needed to move 12-18 month clothes out, and haul all the 2T stuff in, so we folded and sorted and hung things up like a couple of women on good espresso shots.
Tomorrow Sister will be over here, to repeat today’s performance with Thing 2’s closet.
And that, as riveting as it was, was my weekend.
Before I go, I do have some quick snapshots that I popped off of Thing 2 over the weekend. That baby never sighs or rolls his eyes back in his head when I bring out the camera, like his older brother does!
Y’all carry on and have a restful Sunday night.