So, today, I cycled home from work in the rain. I got home about 7 to my latch key children and decided not to take Daniel to GAA training as Mr. Waffle would have done, had he been here (he is, sadly, away for work). I then gave the boys pizza for dinner (yes, they had pizza for dinner last night as well for their birthday party; our house is a temple to healthy eating at the moment). I burnt Michael’s because I am truly on top of my game. Herself and myself had Thai take-out. â‚¬36 for two on a school-night Monday. I can feel you judging me. I’m judging me.
I signed homework notebooks for the boys. Michael forgot to bring in his art materials today and Daniel forgot his home economics ingredients (“Did you not get to make anything then?” I asked. “Yes, I got ingredients from the cupboard and made scones, they’re in the bottom of my schoolbag,” he said. For all I know, they’re there still becoming ever more appealing as they are crushed by the weight of school books). Daniel also forgot to do his history homework and spent much of the evening frantically writing his history essay now due tomorrow on pain of death. This despite the fact that last night they faithfully promised me that they had in their school bags everything they needed for today. Signed a form allowing herself to go on a school retreat. Revised Michael’s months of the year in German for a test on Thursday. Refused to help herself with prep for her German test on the grounds that at this point I am more likely to put her off than assist. As she corrected my dates in German for Michael’s benefit, she was forced to concede that I was correct.
While the children cleared up after dinner (more a throwing out of cartons than a real clean up), I went to do some work on the computer. Herself went back upstairs to do more homework after cleaning up and, once the boys had packed their bags for tomorrow (Did I double check? I did not. Is this wise? I think we all know the answer to that.), the boys and I watched an episode of the “Big Bang Theory” and then they went to bed. I turned back to my labours for the office (big all day meeting tomorrow) and at 9.45 herself sidled in. “The blueberries didn’t come with the shopping and I need them for home economics tomorrow.” Was there any point between last Thursday when the shopping came and 9.45 the night before they were needed when this might have been mentioned? “I don’t need them until after 11.30,” said she. Usually her father can be relied on to perform these awkward errands but he is away and I am not at liberty to leave my meeting in the morning for blueberry hunting. This is why I found myself in Tesco at 9.55 this evening looking for blueberries, insert your own joke about late stage capitalism and the Americanisation of everything here (it’s far from blueberries we were reared etc.).
OK, I have updated my blog and finished my work for this evening; I’m going to bed now to reread Harry Potter and nobody can stop me. Judge away, it’s all I’m fit for.
Updated to add: The cat can stop me. She’s supposed to be put in the utility room for the night, otherwise she travels around the house mewing in people’s ears. Mr. Waffle normally stows her away. He did not stow her away tonight. Possibly my husband should go away more often so that I can fully appreciate all the things he does around the house. Mental note: why is laundry basket overflowing?
I don’t judge, I consider this a massive blow against the patriarchy. At least there’s one household in the Western world where the burden of housework rests at least equally on the man’s shoulders (ours too, but we don’t have kids so it doesn’t count as much). Keep up the good work.
I am not judging you, it sounds like a pretty normal but tiring kind of Monday in a house with children and working parents. Our pizza boxes jammed the recycling drawer, which is irritating but not enough to do something about it. School bags are only checked once a term (unless they emanate ominous smells or drip), whatever is in there is usually crumpled or otherwise unrecognisable and it doesn’t matter. School sends out text messages, which is far more efficient way of communication. I hope Harry Potter was enjoyable. x
Disgruntled, I blush to take credit for the work of my mother-in-law who did an amazing job in ensuring that her sons do their fair share around the house.
Christina, I am extremely pleased to hear about your school bag checking regime!
Also not judging but â‚¬36 for takeaway for two seems very expensive
How have I not discovered your blog before… you have made me laugh this evening as I remembered life when my four were all at school. Oh the memory of being told the night before what they need for food tech the next day!
Mr Waffle says
Sorry things were grim while I was away…