Awake 7am. Alone. Bliss. Kids, Al, downstairs.
Lounge. Laze. Read.
Smells: Bacon, home fries, coffee.
Can't. Resist. Smells.
Out of bed.
Resolute: Will not perform a single motherly duty this day. Not pick up a toy. Not fill a sippy cup. Not wipe an arse.
Kitchen; "Happy Mother's Day! Daddy got you a present!"
Very twinkly. Very sparkly.
Better than few years ago gift of new scrubs; because I'm a working mom. Duh.
Five years ago gift certificate for massage; which sits in desk unused.
Last year gift; jack. As in shit.
Greasy breakfast indulgence. Calories on mother's day do not count. Magic like.
Family gone. Flowers and seeds and soil and other untold garden provisions to be purchased.
Bed. Book. Snooze.
Clean breakfast mess. Not as motherly duty.
Treat making requires clean kitchen slate. Issues. Mine.
Chocolate Chip Cookies. Dough. Yum.
Play in garden. Spread mulch.
"No Owen; MULCH."
Cold outside. Kids whining.
Bail on family.
"Look at that sleepy fuck." Gold.
Shower. Shave things.
Al done with gardening.
He smells of dirt and sweat and hard work.
Offers of certain favors as thanks for lovely ring and relaxing day.
Chicken Kiev. Al specialty. My favorite.
Kids to bed.
Morning favors will have to suffice.
Get up 6:30am, grab laundry, grab Owen's school clothes, wrangle kids downstairs, fight over breakfast, no you can't have cookies for breakfast, wrangle Owen into bathtub, sneak cookie, empty dishwasher, put clothes in washer, pick up every single toy children own off every inch of floorspace in downstairs, get Owen out of tub, clean bathroom; sink, toilet, tub, hunt down Owen's backpack, fight over filling of backpack with actual books and not superhero toys and DVDs, pick up every book children own off of playroom floor and place them in their proper places organized by child, topic and size, vacuum playroom, make grocery list, text friend: Gonna drop kids off on your way to gym?, kids arrive, Lenny age three, Mickey age one, wrestle Bea into clothes, short bus claims Owen, kids play, vacuum rest of downstairs with Mickey on hip, friend back from gym, have tea while kids play, friend leaves, switch laundry over, to grocery store, ensure spot in Hell by asking to bag groceries myself, ignore hairy eyeball from cashier, home, groceries away, throw lunch at Bea, wash kitchen floor, quickie blog post, shower, drop Bea off with friend, go to fucking work for eight hours.