Tag Archives: do all the things

(Kid)-free at last, (kid)-free at last

Hey, do you guys remember what it was like before you had kids? Like, what you used to do on a typical pre-spawn Saturday, when you had a million hours stretched out in front of you where you could do anything you wanted? And, most importantly, if candy tasted better eaten out in the open instead of while huddled in a corner of a locked bathroom, like a junkie mainlining M&M’s?

Yeah. Me neither. Apparently there gets to be a certain point in parenthood where you can’t remember what it was like before you spent 85 percent of your day refilling sippy cups. Personally, I think this forgetfulness is a survival instinct. Your brain suppresses those pre-child memories so that your head doesn’t explode when you have to get up at 5 a.m. on a Saturday now and get ready and cook breakfast that no one eats and deal with three tantrums before finally getting them to soccer practice and then head to the grocery store because you’re out of milk and then immediately head back to the store when you drop the milk in the driveway and it explodes all over everything and then you look at the clock and it’s only 9:15 a.m. and you cry a little.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because at the end of this month, I will have four glorious days all to myself. No kids. No husband. No dog. Just me and my questionable decision-making skills, all alone. I’m heading to a beloved friend’s wedding in Portland, Oregon, and there will quite literally be an entire continent between me and my responsibilities.

And. I. Can’t. Wait.

I’ve never been away from my kids. Oh sure, an hour or three here or there but never overnight and certainly never in a long enough time frame for me to permanently ruin whatever is left of my tattered reputation. And I plan to fully take advantage of this particular gift I have been granted by the grace of the parenting gods and my friend Adriana’s airline points.

Because, see, a lot of moms will tell you that “I don’t even know what I’d do with myself without my kids.” Seriously, I Googled “What do moms do when they are away from their kids?” and the pickins were slim. It seemed to be a tie between blogs where moms boringly describe “it was great for 15 minutes but then I just missed the kids so much, so I just sat here like a lump until they came back” and news articles about moms who run away from their children permanently. Because even in motherhood, we women are still reduced down to the sinner/saint, madonna/whore archetype.

But not me. Oh no. I’m hitting that sweet spot right in the middle where I’m going to run off and do awful things and not feel guilty once and then come home to my loving family smelling like happiness and stale beer.

So, first things first, I’m going to start off slow. I want to read a book. Read all the books, in fact. And every newspaper and magazine from the last three years.

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Then I will drink all the booze. ALL OF IT.

Sleep in. Until 7 a.m. Maybe even 7:30.

Take a long, long, long shower. Or hell, a bath. And then actually style my hair into something other than “messy bun.” Like “purposefully messy bun.” And then I will pluck my eyebrow until there are two again.

Eat a cheeseburger for breakfast and an entire cheesecake for dinner. WITHOUT having to share ANY of it.

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Make a huge mess. And don’t clean it up.

Run around my hotel room naked.

Run around the hotel naked.


Smoke a cigar with some old men wearing fedoras.

Steal one of the fedoras and run away laughing maniacally.

Set my daily planner on fire and cover my face with the ashes and do a ritual pagan dance to every known deity devoted to chaos.

Write my novel!

Start a rock band!

Finally learn to juggle those fire sticks!

Buy a bunch of spray paint and become the new Banksy!

Rob a bank and give all the money to the poor!


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Right after I buy my kids a bunch of souvenirs and text my husband dirty hotel room nudes, of course.


Napper’s Delight

Guys. GUYS. My baby napped in his crib.

No. No, you don’t understand.

My baby.


In his crib.

For one glorious hour and seven minutes (and 46 seconds, but who’s counting), my child slept in the daytime in the actual space that is specifically and scientifically designed for just such a purpose. As opposed to where he has taken every other single nap of his entire short life, which was in my arms (or his father’s arms, or his grandparents’ arms or that hobo’s arms that one time I REALLY had to pee in a sketchy Starbucks).

Not that I didn’t try to get him to nap in his crib. I did. I do. All the time. However, this is how it usually turns out:

Flashback wavy lines…Flashback wavy lines…Flashback wavy lines…


But this time, I don’t know if it was a fluke or maybe he was just really tired that day or if it’s that he’s finally old enough to realize that the crib is actually his bed and not the Sarlacc from Star Wars. But he slept. And after only 11 minutes of “my mother abandoned me and I’m going to die” level crying.

So what did I do with that one hour and seven minutes and 46 seconds, you ask? Well, you know that “Flight of the Bumblebee” song? Yeah, have that running through your head as you read the following.

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First things first, I ran to the bathroom to grab the nail trimmer! Where I clipped four out of the ten gnarly hermit nails I had been wanting to trim since March! Before remembering I had to do laundry! Because I was down to my pregnancy underwear that I had to safety pin to my pants so they didn’t fall down! So I ran to the bedroom to start sorting my giant mountain of clothes! Which I did for 2.5 minutes before remembering I could actually eat something for once without a tiny human being clawing at my legs! So I ran to the kitchen and opened the fridge! Just basking in the glow of the refrigerator light and the knowledge that I could eat whatever I wanted and not just grab the first convenient thing I saw, which was usually something disgusting, like two-week-old Chinese food or celery!

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Before I could eat though, I realized I could finally read the Sunday newspaper! Even though it was Tuesday! And the newspaper was from three weeks ago! But first, I wanted to make more coffee! Because I would need more caffeine to do all the things! All. The. Things! Ooh, coffee and the newspaper! AND A BISCOTTI! I needed a biscotti too! But we didn’t have any! I could run out and get some! Oh wait! No I can’t! My kid is just napping! Still needs an adult present! Oh well! Wait, what was I doing!?

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A book! I could finally read one of my books languishing on my nightstand! But which one!? Oh, but first I should shower! NO! A bath! Oh my god, a bath! I miss baths! And then I could read my book in the tub with my coffee and biscotti! Oh yeah, I was making coffee! Where are the filters!? I can finally shave my Sasquatch legs and use that fancy sugar scrub!

Cookies!!! We don’t have biscotti but I could make cookies! Wait, why do my nails look weird? Oh yeah, I didn’t finish trimming them! I could do that while I finally start watching “Twin Peaks” on Netflix! Right after I call everyone I’ve ever known since I can now finally talk without Lil’ Captain ChattyPants constantly trying to grab my cell phone! But who to call first!? Wait, wasn’t I making coffee? Where are those damned filters!?

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Ooh, actually though, I should probably use this time to clean. Hahahaha! I crack myself up! Searching for “Supernatural” bloopers on YouTube while stuffing my face with cheese it is instead!

Oh crap. Oh crap, crap, crap. What was that noise? He’s awake!? Already!? But I haven’t DONE anything yet! Sixty percent of my nails are still scary witch lady length!

Oh well. Guess there’s always the next time he naps in his crib.* I mean, now that he did it once, I’m sure this is bound to become a regular thing, right?**

*Still waiting.

**I’m typing this one-handed as he naps in my arms.