Last weekend our washing machine broke.
The first thought that popped into my head was, "Of all the times to have my washer break!"
But I quickly stopped myself. Because when is there a good time to have a broken washer in a family of six; four of which belong to the seven and under set?
The kids' clothes were ultra muddy from our Spring Melt but we powered through. I had Brian make a quick trip to the laundromat to relive our college days. I needed some clean uniforms for William and couldn't wait for the repairman. It wasn't a terrible experience but I knew I would have been totally screwed if anyone peed, pooped or puked in their bed. Everyone pulled out their A game and rallied together for a triumphant return of that blessed little machine that works far harder than it probably should for its age.
Also last week I quickly learned how the benefit of "working from home" sounds a lot better than it really is.
Brian's office moved up a couple floors in his building and it took a week to the get the place conducive to working conditions so all employees were asked to work from home.
We are accustomed to having Brian regularly work from home about once every couple of weeks. It's a great opportunity for me run errands in the afternoon while the babies are napping and the Bigs are at school.
But never have we had him home for six consecutive work days. The mornings and early afternoons were OK. William would get off to school. I would go to the gym later than usual. Lucy would be off at 11:00 and the babies would eat lunch and go down for their naps. But it was when the 3 o'clock hour hit that things got real hairy. Three o'clock is a terrible time for us on a normal day. All at once the Bigs get home from school and the babies wake up from their naps. There's a lot of low blood sugar happening and things are just really loud and messy.
Every single day at 3:00 last week it seemed Brian was leading some sort of important client call and so I was charged with ruling a bunch of unruly monkeys so as to not make it seem as if Brian was taking his call from the middle of a jungle with a bunch of wild animals rioting around him. It was an impossible task. I quickly got frustrated, impatient and bitter.
Monday morning, Brian back in the office, was never so glorious. I might even be a little too ecstatic about the the two-day business trip he has this week.
Some families have found a way to only work from home. We are not some families. We need the ability to be loud and boisterous and we need a dad who is our Dad when he is home and not a software salesman.
This weekend we cleaned out our garage. Something we haven't done in a couple of years. I made $20 selling random unused things I found. It paid for our beer consumption that weekend. The concrete floor is so clean and beautiful I briefly considered sleeping out there. I'm only kind of kidding.
William has his first ever written and oral report due this week. The unit is space and the students were allowed to pick any topic they wanted related to space. William chose to write his report on the first monkeys sent to space. We helped him do the research online but he wrote the paper on his own. Every time I walk past his report on the counter I pick it up to read and bust out into a fit of giggles. It reads:
Monkeys in space! By: William
Monkeys went into space before humans. The first monkey in space was named Albert. He rode a V2 rocket and he could not breathe up in space. When his rocket landed he was dead. Albert was brave.
What do you think? A little heavy for first graders? I can't decide. I hope there are no PETA reps in his class. That project is making the memory box for sure.