I tried to explain to a coworker why I love Mondays.
I know I will soon sit at my cubicle under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the never-ending waft of microwaveable food smells where I’ll drink my hot coffee. There, I’ll work uninterrupted, relatively speaking.
Sure, come Friday, I’ll look forward to the weekend because, like giving birth, I will have forgotten the horrific pain and agonizing hours upon hours delivering a fun-filled weekend before depositing my kids back in school 48 hours later.
But while perusing the web, London dad Father of Daughters on Instagram appears to remind me what weekends with kids are all about. That is, unlike the dreamy feel of Coke and liquor commercials, weekends really are an energy-zapping slog.
That face! One eye closed. Mouth open. Yep. The close of a weekend. The British lingo about a shopping bag may be lost in translation, but we get it anyway — weekends are an overstuffed, crappy grocery bag.
“This weekend was like trying to fit the weekly shop into a single carrier bag that had the structural integrity of a biscuit that had been dunked one too many times.
“Cram too much in and it breaks, spilling [its] guts all over the pavement to onlookers to stare and mutter glad that wasn’t me while you silent sob into a snotty rag you found in your pocket that [the] kids took a particularly large blow into earlier.”
Dad of four daughters never rests
He goes onto to describe the weekend: sports clubs, sleepovers, the zoo, walks in the park, trips to five shops to find slime ingredients, slime making, loft sorting, cleaning, planning parties, cooking and more.
That’s tame compared to my list, which included a family celebration dinner at a steakhouse with a community peanut barrel, vomiting after that dinner (probably because of the peanut barrel), driving to and from daughter’s study date, cleaning, financial planning with spouse, eight loads of laundry, epic shopping trip for a month’s worth of toilet paper and other household goods, sorting hot weather/cold weather children clothes and a bunch of boring stuff.
This dad’s point about weekends is what he says here: “You end up with broken parents.”
Women think he’s winking
That closed eye in the photo? He explains by saying, “I’ve now developed an eye twitch so bad that women think I’m coming on to them through winking.”
Then Father of Daughters invites parents to share their weekend pain experiences and closes out with this bit of advice.
“Parenting is hard work, but we are own worst enemies some times when we try to do too much. We should give ourselves a break sometimes and remind ourselves we’re doing the best we can.”
Maybe pare down what we can. Do less laundry.
Rethink the community peanut bin when we go out to eat if that’s an option.