Weekends are great in that we are all together, but HELLO! We are all together, which means our normal schedules fly out of the window, and there are errands to run, so we spend less normal time home. Friday evening starts out all fine and dandy. Everyone is as excited as a school girl to get out of the motherfurking house and do something fun.
I love my family, but they are messy, messy people. Messy people who apparently wear blinders to all of clutteryness. But to me, it's like all the clutter is a blast from the totally terrific 80's; all glowing in it's awesome neon colors and big hair.
We usually have pizza night with the in-laws, and the kids get super excited about it. To Tall Boy, my oldest son, this translates into, "Let's ask Mommy 9 million times when we are going out for pizza night?" so that she almost loses her schmidt. By the time Daddy walks in from work, I practically throw the kids at him and run to get changed (read that: take my sweet time to put on some non-frumpy clothes).
Saturday goes by in a blur. It's like the golden day of the week, and it's almost elusive in nature. It always seems to have the least amount of hours in the day. When you wake up, you are going "Yaaaay! It's Saturday!! I am so excited to have time off!" And just as you put a period on the end of that sentence, it's Saturday at 11 pm and you are just standing there going, "Whuck? What just happened? Where did my Saturday go?" It's kind of like when you get your tax return and then it's gone in a month and a half. You had that momentary period of time where you are like "Sweet, I am totally rich!" And then, just like that, not so much.
Sunday is the "Holy poop, we forgot to do these 900 things and tomorrow is Monday, and holy what, we have no food, clean clothes, and oh yeah I still have to make dinner and pack lunches, gaaaaahhh!!" And like that, it's over. You are just left standing there in the kitchen, food all over the place, boob stains on your shirt, baby vomit and snot in your hair and a mound of dishes in the sink. And then the week starts all over again. No wonder Mondays are my cleaning day. Someone has to clean up after the black hole that is the weekend.