Mondays are EVIL

For the record, I HATE mondays. I didn't used to hate them, but now they are evil. Mondays are the day that my children all regress to the terrible twos, and we need a minimum of 20 extra minutes to make it out the door. Inevitably there are forgotten snowpants, missing gloves, scattered papers, and lots of tears. (Usually mine.) And today was no exception.

I awoke at the normal time of 5:10, and instead of hearing the usual hum of my hubby running on the treadmill, I hear him cursing and stomping downstairs. I naturally assume that the treadmill is broken. (I figure it has died from the strain of hauling my fat ass . . .) So, I call down and ask if he is ok, and the from the profanity laced string of responses I get, I am able to piece together that A: The kids did not pick up the video games from yesterday . . . B: the dog peed and pooped downstairs. . .C:the dog peed and pooped on the video games that the kids didn't put away yesterday.

And of course, the is somehow ALL MY FAULT. (It is also my fault that the cowboys lost in the playoffs because I dared to ask my husband if he wanted a blanket in the third quarter, therefore completely altering the earths rotation and the outcome of the game. So, to all Cowboy fans out there - I humbly apologize.) I will admit that I was completely lax with the kids playing with the Wii yesterday, but in my defense, it was my father's deathiversay, and it is the one day a year where I traditionally lay around, feel sorry for myself, eat like a pig, watch sappy chick flicks, be bitter and bitch all day. (However, I also managed to make a gourmet dinner, dust the dining room walls, bake 3 dozen cookies - of which I only ate 1 dozen- wash said cookie making dishes, scrub the toilet, and finish 2 chapters of the book I'm reading. Yet somehow, that has all been conveniently overlooked . . .)

So, before I had even had one sip of coffee, all hell had broken loose at my house. and, unfortunately, it only got worse. Upon entering Kade & Derek's room, my loving husband also managed to walk into a 4 gallon pile of dog piss conveniently left there by our 100 pound lap dog, Sally. So, now it is 5:35, and all the kids are up, the dogs are cowering in the corner- fearing for their lives, my husband is stomping around mumbling something about dogs and murder, and I can barely even keep my eyes open.

So, I attempt to tackle the 4 gallons of pee on the boys carpet. I spray it with as much dog pee smell remover that I have left in the bottle, and I do my best to soak it up. Let me just tell you that Sham Wows are the biggest waste of money EVER. After doing the irish jig on top of the sham wow, there was barely a damp spot on the damn cloth. But, my socks were soaking wet. (Sorry, during one of my sleepless nights I became a sucker for Vince's charming sales pitch. And hey, I got the second set FREE!)

So, 2o minutes and 2 rolls of viva later, (and completely reeking of dog piss), I am finally able to sit down to my first cup of coffee. It is at this point my husband tries to sneakily pull a "reverse psychological moment" on me. (My husband is a very talented counsellor, and he is currently taking online courses to complete his administrative degree. Because he is type A and a complete perfectionist, he is spending no less than 30 hours per week on papers and prep work for 2 classes. - this in addition to working 45 hours a week at his job, jogging 1 hour every day on the treadmill, and playing bball one night per week - So, needless to say he is busy and stressed.) So, he uses the old "I am going to drop my class because I just can't keep up with the school work and the housework, and it's making me physically sick." Ooouuucch, zinger right in my gut. Ok, so he was legitimately sick this weekend, but could it not have something to do with the fact that he works in public education and he is exposed to all the nasty winter bugs that are making the rounds? I just couldn't help to think that the speech was more prompted by my lack of effort on the house cleaning and laundry this weekend. I will admit that I was a pathetically lazy bum this weekend, but it was well-deserved. I totally kicked ass scrubbing the bathrooms, dusting, and vacuuming LAST weekend. Does that not count for anything? Is it all MY fault that my children are discusting heathens that are capable of getting toothpaste on a 8 foot tall ceiling?

So, I use my nice wifey voice and politely say "oh honey, don't quit your class. I will take care of all the household stuff and you can concentrate on your class." eye twitch - eye twitch. "I know that I didn't do much this weekend, but I will have it all taken care of." lip quiver, eye twitch, lip quiver.

Needless to say, I am home spot -botting dog piss, scraping toothpaste from 8' ceilings, making ANOTHER gourmet dinner, scrubbing all non-porous surfaces with bleach, organizing toys into color coded bins, dead-heading all the plants, reorganizing the pantry by best use by date, matching up all the Tupperware to it's lid, sweeping up 34 pounds of dog hair (which I will weave into a sweater tonight), and alphabetizing the recycling.

Perhaps upon completion I will be redeemed for causing the dogs to extricate on the floors, for allowing the kids leave all the video game equipment out, for causing the cowboys to lose their division, for my contribution to global warming, and for McDonald's getting rid of the strawberry shake

At least I got the kids to school on time.