On Sunday, I, apparently, did everything wrong. Adam normally takes part in the hauling of children duties on Sunday, but as he was conveniently on the other side of the ocean, I had a full weekend day of managing my children. I:
—Drove them to Hebrew school
—Shopped at the grocery store and Wilson Farm because my kids hate doing it with me
—Ran three miles and showered because the girl hates it when I’m sweaty
—Picked them up from Hebrew school
—Fed them lunch
—Drove the boy to his drum lesson
—Drove the boy to the craft store for some supplies he wanted
—Drove the girl to a birthday party and made arrangements for her to be dropped at a neighbor because I then…
—Drove the boy to hockey, where I finally found a warm spot to watch him, only to have him rotate to another game
—Got the boy dressed after hockey
—Drove the boy home
—Provided dinners, baths, and put children to bed
And the the boy? What was his input for the day? Apparently I forgot to bring his shirt and jacket to hockey. And then when he was taking his hockey shirt off after the game, he moaned at me, “Mom! My pad is on backwards!” To which I could only look at him in an “I don’t give a rat’s ass” way and tell him, “You put on your pads.” Did that silence the whine? I think not.
And today? Today I got:
Me: So you’re buying lunch tomorrow?
The boy: Yes. It’s hot dog. You know I can’t stay away from my meat long.
Me: You missed a few on your homework, there.
The boy: I know, Mom! I’m not done. Your help is getting in my way.
Yes, that’s my boy. Aren’t you jealous?
