Last week my husband went on a business trip to Vegas for 5 days leaving me and the kids to fend for ourselves. He claims it wasn’t a “vacation,” but I consider anything that doesn’t involve wiping nonstop snotty noses and getting up to get someone their milk 600 times a day a retreat from life and I’m jealous.
Don’t worry, I made sure to live it up at home and partied like a momstar, which basically equals to more wearing pajamas and less doing laundry.
Here’s what I did all week:
Full Remote Control!
My husband has a sixth sense for finding any movie with aliens or zombies in it. He also has this terrible joy for finding movies that we own on HBO and watching them from the middle. If I don’t start watching it from scene one, I don’t see the point. When he was gone I had a Charlie Huunam marathon (oh yes), watched Teen Mom 2 and Girls, and any other trashy show I could find. No aliens, no Shaun of the Dead. I was in my Glory.
I used all my husband’s stuff:
Let’s face it, men’s razors and socks are just made better. I wore all his stuff, used all his razors and left them all out when I was done. I’m like a bad college roommate, and I don’t even feel bad.
Shoveled The Driveway:
The week he leaves it decided to show everyday, several times a day with extra wind and ice. Feminism or not, I really just want a man to shovel the driveway. Go home Polar Vortex, I’m not impressed.
Let the laundry pile up:
I figured I could use the hectic time with the kids running amuck and me all by myself as a good excuse to let the laundry sit in the baskets not even trying to be folded. This sounds legit, right?!
Put the kids to bed on time:
My husband’s 1) a pushover and 2) when he gets home from work it’s like toddlers gone wild here. They take his walking into the house to run around like wild animals with no zoo trainer. When I’m by myself we do everything on my schedule. kids go straight to bed at 8, no exceptions. Plus, I have a television to dominate.
Locked all the doors:
As soon as my husband walks out the door, all of a sudden every creak in the house could be a team of burglars trying to get me. I locked all the doors, checked them twice and randomly left Legos and toys with wheels all over the floor just in case.
Despite the fact that I got to sleep in the middle of the bed all week, not stay up at night listening to snoring and got to watch all my shows I was SO ready for him to come home by the end of the week. To show my appreciation of his return, I made sure to give him a warm welcome. And by warm welcome, I mean: I made an extra effort to sleep in the next morning after he got home and pretended not to hear the kids arguing while I played candy crush in the bathroom.