So, the one thing every parent of a small child (or small children, if they are like me and are clinically insane) craves the most is the ever-elusive moment to themselves at the end of a long day brimming with tantrums, Dora, and smells that cannot be described without the mentioning of the word "horrific". How does a parent find free time? Or, more accurately, how does a parent without a massive circle of friends and babysitters sitting at the ready and just chomping at the bit for their next chance to watch your little demonic banshee monkey-child find free time?
If you know that answer...please tell me.
Moving on. Back before children, "free time" was basically any moment that I was not at work. I would come home to a quiet house, grab a bite to eat, or even head right out to a party or whatever it is that normal people with social lives do; clearly, the latter half of this sentence is fabricated, because I don’t actually know what normal people with social lives do. In reality, I would head home and play video games, work on some writing or drawing, or devour the latest manga by Rumiko Takahashi. I could do any and all of this, and still have time to go for a run or to hang out with my buddy Billy Blanks.
With children, this is how free time (prior to the children's bedtimes) goes:
Me: "Ah, here I am…sitting on the couch…"
Squish: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" *leaps on me like a rabid squirrel*
Or…
Me: "Ah, here I am…sitting at the computer getting ready to pay some bills…"
Squish: asdfghjklzxcvbnm
Password incorrect.
Me: "AAAAAAGH! Stop it, I’m trying to pay the-"
Squish: saehraskfdsknhgdfkxjgildsktgdkjhgkjdg
<You have been locked out for unsuccessful login attempts. Please call customer service.>
Me: "…*head-desk*…Okaaay…here I am, on my phone waiting on hold for customer service."
Squish: *does a flying leap off of the bookcase*
Me: "NO! STOP IT, GET DOWN!"
Customer Service: "Yes, how may I help you?"
Squish: "I WANT A DRINK!!!!!!!! I’M HUNGRY! MOMMY! HEY MOMMY!"
Azzy: "MOMMY! ADRIANNA IS IN THE KITCHEN!"
Adrianna: *eats cat poop*
Me: "Oh my god."
Customer Service: "Ma’am, are you still there?"
Me: "Yes, I was locked out of my-"
Squish: *shrieks like the angel of death, which summons a horde of demons that soon begin to systematically strew laundry, toys, and the contents of my wallet all over the house* "MOMMY!!!!!!"
Customer Service: "Hello?"
Me: "…I’ll call you back in ten years."
So there you have it. Essentially, free time does not exist between the hours of 7AM (or 8AM…or 4:30AM…or whenever I’m awakened by an atomic bomb exploding in the girls’ bedroom) and whenever bedtime is. So this leaves a handful of hours at the end of the day where I really should be sleeping, too. But I don’t. I surf the Internet, or watch crappy movies on Netflix, or drown my weariness in an entire pot of extra-strength caffeinated goodness or a twelve pack of Diet Pepsi.
To his credit, on days my husband is home from work, THIS is how my free time goes.
Me: "Ah, here I am at my laptop getting to work on my book…" *writes for about five minutes*
Squish: "Mommy! Moooooommy!!!!"
Adrianna: *sobs hysterically*
Chuck: "Um, Heather, could I have a little help?"
And my husband’s free time:
Chuck: "Ah, here I am sleeping for the first time in three days. Well, I was…until Squish shrieked and banged on the bedroom door…do I smell a fire?…"
And that’s about all I have to say about that.
