Last week I bitched that Sugar’s teacher never responded to a note that I sent in to her last Monday. Here we are a week later, still no response. Sue me for being Ms. Manners about this, but I think her behavior is rude. A response would have been appropriate. I’m glad the school year is nearly over.
Last week I bitched about the missed telephone interview. I never circled back to say that I emailed with the woman and we rescheduled. We had a really nice chat on Thursday morning and I was pretty excited about the opportunity: they promote working at home, there’s a bit of travel, the job sounded interesting, the title would look great on my resume. The only downer was that the salary was a little light. I thought that being able to work from home made up for that. I felt pretty good about the call and was told that I would be called on Friday or Monday to schedule an in-person interview. Today is Tuesday and I haven’t been called. I guess I wasn’t as charming as I thought I was.
The weekend was stacked with exciting plans: hockey game and Spice’s first sleepover on Friday night; hair appointment then shopping with my niece on Saturday; lunch with a good friend on Sunday. Sounds like a nice cushy weekend, right? I think if Friday night hadn’t been so drama-filled, the entire weekend may have had dream-like qualities. Instead most of the weekend is colored with bad thoughts about Friday night.
I’ve been a mom for a reasonable length of time and I should have known this without a doubt: after a full week of school it is not a good idea to take the girls out on Friday night without coming home first. I picked them up right from their schools and headed right over for pizza with Skinny Bitch and her family. I didn’t give my cherubs a chance to chill, so they turned into raving lunatics once we got home. That would have been fine, except we had Spice’s friend over for a sleepover. I do believe the screaming mama scared the hell out of that sweet girl and she started crying to go home. Because I had already committed a multitude of sins, I figured a pink sprinkle cookie at 11:30 pm would do no harm. Correct I was! She was smiley and happy and pranced off to bed as soon as she was done. Since I know her mother is reading this, I’ll also say I didn’t have her brush her teeth afterwards either. When my girls go to your house, you can do the same.
On Saturday I spent much time away from home and the children who had been so awful the day before. I needed my space and went home with a better attitude. Everyone at home was better too. Why wouldn’t they be? They all took 3+ hour naps.
On Sunday I had the opportunity to spend a few hours with a great friend that I rarely see. I believe the last time we connected was in January. Usually when we meet up, there’s a husband or two and/or a child or three joining us. This time it was blissfully “just us.” We talked our fool heads off and practically had to be pried out of our booth. It was obvious that we were both enjoying time to be just friends, not mommies or Mrs.’s.
I stopped quickly at my alma mater (makes me feel important to say that!) to pick up my cap and gown. Here’s annoying: we’ve all seen graduation garb before, have we not? They’re billowy black gowns, not form fitting or anything. So why the hell did the 12-year-old twit working the counter need to ask for my weight? Seriously?!
I came home and popped a whole chicken in the oven. After all, I had spent much time away from the family over the weekend and had lots of mommy guilt. And, sad but true, the chicken was huge and would need to cook for hours. Darn, I had time for a nap.
The weekend did end on a high note as the four of us enjoyed a great dinner together. The girls were very impressed with the meal, but it’s obvious that it’s been a long time since I’ve cooked a chicken or turkey. Spice was full of questions: where are the feathers, where’s her head, eyeballs, feet, and of course:
WHERE’S THE CHICKEN BUTTCRACK?