And it’s Friday…

Shit, fuck, piss…made it to Friday! Chris is out of town for flight school. We have been surviving without our morning man. He gets our routine going everyday. I’ve got this…I can wake up. No, I fucking can’t, I’m not a morning person! The kids and I slept in, now we are running out the door. I fly into the parking lot at school. Wow, I’m impressed with our time. I can at least fake I got this and do. The kids are in school for 2.5 hours in the morning. I will take whatever I can get to be alone. I used to bitch, how little time I had away from my kids, when they were in preschool and kindergarten. I will never bitch again. Never again.  

After drop off, I pull into the grocery store. I need to stock up on “no sugar/no alcohol diet supplies”. I know right? This is going to be rough, after 10 months of bad habits. I needed a serious kick in the ass. I’m starting tomorrow, on a Saturday. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I even stopped by Binnys to say “Good Bye” to the Cabernet Aisle. “Good Bye” my beautiful friends…”Au Revoir Joel Gott, Cannon Ball, Bread and Butter and Josh”. These wines are not even from France, they are from California. I’m just being a little dramatic here. Well it wouldn’t hurt to buy a bottle or two in case of an emergency. I also bought a handle of Titos. I’m already enabling myself to cheat and it hasn’t even started yet…

Drop groceries off and get the boys. I pull into the parking lot and they are last to be picked up.

Me: “Hey, how was everyone’s day?” 

Patrick: “We had MAP testing today and I hate it. I always want to shit my pants, when we have to take those tests.”

We are not even out of the parking lot of school… 

Me: “Patrick! Why do you think you can talk like that? You know those words are for when you’re 18.” Ugh, he has been swearing freely lately. I know, I know this is my fault. I’ve been swearing in front of him a lot more with covid and can’t fucking help it. I can’t let him know that it’s okay to swear YET. I had to yell and raise my voice. 

Patrick: “Gees okay fine, crap my pants.” I’m so fucked. 

Now we have two hours to eat lunch and relax until we get back on our computers for the afternoon part of school. In the meantime, Tucker’s ABA Therapist show’s up at 11:30 for Tucker’s session. He’s a strange guy, anxious person, and loves to comment on EVERYTHING in my house or what my kids do. Every time we talk to him, I act like we are in an improv scene. It’s the only way to get through the 3 1/2 hours of this shit.  

Me: “Hey, therapist how are you?”

Therapist: “Good, how are you?”

Me: “Good.” 

He get’s himself settled, we do small chat, and walks to my bathroom…then walks out.

Therapist: “Excuse me, Christine. Ummm there’s no toilet paper in the bathroom.” 

Me: “Oh there’s not?” I just remembered, I was the last to use it this morning and I forgot to put a new roll on. “Oh let me get some.”

Therapist: “I can go upstairs if you want me to?”

Me: “No, I have some.” I check the linen closet. Oh shit, I don’t have anymore in there and need to go downstairs to grab it. 

Therapist: “I can go upstairs.” He looks persistent.

Me: “Sure, whatever works.” 

I walk downstairs to grab a new case of TP from the Costco plastic. In my thoughts…wait, is he taking a shit? He’s taking a shit. Unless he grabs a square and pats the tip of his dick. So it doesn’t dribble on his pants? He does seem like the type that would do that. I love how much thought I am putting into this. Okay so, he’s lighting my toilet up upstairs, got it….cool. 

I replace the roll and go back into the kitchen to continue preparing everyone’s lunch. I made myself a salad. The chopping took me forever. I purposefully ate like shit all week to gear up for a major detox with this diet. Eating a salad was very refreshing and a good start to kick my bad habits to the curb. 

Ten minutes had passed and therapist was still not down. Where the fuck is he? What is he doing up there? Whatever. Another five minutes pass, he finally comes down. 

He’s wearing his N95 mask. I bet he needed with that with explosion he had upstairs. I pretended that I didn’t see him, this is weird. 

Here comes our ice breaker…

Therapist: “So, do you have plans this weekend?”

Me: I turn around from the kitchen. “Yea, I’m going to hang with some friends and then to my mom’s house Saturday. You?”

Therapist: “Oh I’m celebrating a friends birthday.” He takes his mask off and swigs some of his Diet Coke. He drinks a shit load of diet coke.  

Me: “Nice.” I turn back around and continuing chopping, I don’t feel like small talk after how long he was upstairs. We need to move on.

Therapist: “Hi Tucker.” Therapy has now started.

Tucker: “Hiiiiii”…running 50 mph passed him. 

Tucker is sneaky and is constantly ditching therapist in my house. Therapist is super gullible and Tucker always takes advantage of him. He will sneak away quietly and go to another room, without the therapist ever noticing. Therapist spends so much of his time, trying to find him. Fucking smart boy. Smart boy. I always shake my head.

I sit down at the Dining room table and eat my salad in peace. Scrolling through my phone and not wanting to talk to anyone. I have 30 minutes until all the kids have to go back on zoom with their teachers. It’s mentally exhausting for parents to keep their kids motivated for school. I can’t wait for normalcy to come back.

My 30 minutes are up and I walk downstairs to check if Patrick is in Gym class. He likes to have his camera off and not participate. I get to the bottom and what do I see? Patrick just sitting in a chair watching other fuckers participate in Gym.

Me: “What are you doing?”

Patrick: “What? I’m on a break.”

Me: You have got to be kidding me. “Turn on your screen and start jumping.”

Now, Denny is “meltdown city” mode everyday on the computer. He’s never on mute. He’s got a temper and is baby hulk. He gets fucking pisst VERY easy. The other day, he was drawing a mitten in Art Class. It wasn’t perfect, he’s in 1st grade. No kid is perfect at art. THEN BAM!!! Ripped it up at the table and declared he’s so stupid. He repeatedly continue to do this ten times. Ripped up paper after paper, over a fucking mitten. The class is only 20 minutes long. I’ve stopped trying to win this battle. Might be a bad time to go on a diet with this kid, with Chris is out of town.

On top parenting, Therapist can’t believe the shit he see’s at my house. He actually tries to reason with Denny and I again just shake my head.

We got through the afternoon and the therapist is done. 

Me: “Good bye, tell your friend Happy Birthday from us.” Totally joking. 

Therapist: “Looks at me weird, okay.” 

Me: “Great.” Way to take a joke fucker.  

I love it when Therapist leaves. Makes me feel like I can let my guard down and not give a fuck. I’m cleaning up the kitchen and Patrick comes walking back in. 

Patrick: “Can I play Xbox?”

Me: “No, you’re not done with school.” 

Patrick: “Can I have a cookie?”

Me: “You have to drink milk then.”

Patrick: “WHAT? Why???!!!”

And just as I was about to respond to why. I let out a little gas and completely shit my pants. Yes, I know I shart and most of my stories are about this, but this just happens. In my defense, I haven’t done it in awhile. I could write a book on sharting at this point. I quickly ran to the bathroom, I was a fucking mess. I sit on the toilet trying to get my shoes, pants, and underwear off. WTF? My stomach wasn’t even hurting, it was JUST GAS. 

Now Patrick is talking outside the door. 

Patrick: “Why do I have to have milk?”

Me: “Are we seriously having this conversation? Could you please leave and I’ll talk to you in a minute.” He has no idea why I left the kitchen and probably confused as all hell.  

This is fucking gross….damit. I start the shower. I wrap myself in a robe and run my clothes downstairs and throw them in the washer. I run back up and the kids are looking at me like I’m nuts. They are in the middle of Remote Learning. I jump in the shower and realize it must of have been the salad. I went from eating like shit, to going on a detox diet. The door opens and Denny is standing there staring at me naked. 

Me: “Ugh What?”

Denny: “Can I play Nintendo Switch?”

Me: “No, we are not done with school yet.” I keep answering the same question everyday, no electronics till after school. Always trying to break me. 

I am out of the shower and Patrick is now yelling for me. WTF.

Patrick: “MOM!”

Me: “WHAT?” 

Patrick: “MAAAAA!”

Me: “What?!” I can barely get my robe on. 

Patrick: “There’s someone at the door.”

Me: “WHAT?” Who the fuck could be at the door.

Patrick: “Yea, there’s a guy holding flowers.” Flowers? What is this homecoming?

Me: “Can you get them?”

Patrick: “What? I have shorts on and will freeze.”

Me: “Patrick, I’m in a robe with wet hair, please grab the DOOR!” 

Patrick: “Fine.” 

He comes back walking in with flowers. Sets them on the table. I look outside and a man is sitting in the driveway. Shit, he looks like he’s waiting for a tip or something? He’s idling in his minivan. Damit. 

I go and look at the note. It’s from Chris. “No walks in your shoes.” Wow, the flowers were beautiful. I said those words to him the other night on the phone. Something always happens to me that is random and dealing with the kids while he is working. He works A LOT. I said, “I don’t think anyone could walk in my shoes”.

I look at the note again. I am now eating these words and think, WHO THE FUCK WOULD WANT TO WALK IN THESE SHOES?!! It’s filled with shit, embarrassing moments, and me trying not to have a mental breakdown on the daily. It was a very humbling note indeed. Here I was judging therapist for taking a shit at my house and I shit in the kitchen. Fuck Christine, judge much? At least he made it to the toilet.

My tummy was not right for a few hours. At 4:30, I decided it was time and made myself a vodka grapefruit. I felt like I was playing Russian Roulette with my body. This is risky. Here goes….okay, okay, okay, I think I am okay. I preceded to drink a little more. Oh good, I’m back. Oh fucking thank God.  

Wow, so this is gonna be a rough few weeks. It’s gonna be hard to leave the house and will have to have an emergency kit in the purse for anything that could happen. So, cheers to everyone trying to diet, not drink, drink more, keep moving along, and not be embarrass the shit out of themselves along the way. For the record, I am going to have drinks…just healthier drinks haha. Have a good one.

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