This kind of week.

Birthday week. The week I dread but look forward to. The week where I am thankful to be a SAHM because in truth, I have no idea how I would pull it off otherwise. Our two girls have birthdays two days apart. They are also now at an age where a mutual party is no longer acceptable. One wants a princess at the house with a few close friends. The other wants her girlfriends to dress up at a fashion party. Thank goodness for a local establishment, Sharkey’s Cuts for Kids, who provides a fashion party. Birthday celebrations started yesterday for Elizabeth, now eight years old. She requested a surprise breakfast, homemade angel food cake (she has no idea it came out of a box, but oh well!) and Chinese food for dinner. Thank goodness for delivery. Audrey turns six tomorrow morning. Being a Saturday, she is lucky to get her birthday party on her actual birthday. So Princess Rapunzel is arriving in the early afternoon. Which meant getting the house ready today and all the food. It meant attacking our rec room to make room for twelve little people to sit in a circle and listen to a princess for an hour and a half. Oh, did I mention the family party afterwards? The one where the grandparents are all arriving to celebrate with both the girls? Then Elizabeth’s friend party is Sunday. 

Unable to move after sitting to drink a cup of coffee, I crafted this email to Mr. L. 

Dear Mr. L,

I have grocery shopped, planned three birthday parties, ordered balloons, picked up decorations, ordered a cake, ordered food for our friends, cleaned up the rec room (you will be impressed), moved furniture and tried (in vain) to provide ice removal service for our driveway in anticipation that we have multiple people coming and do not want a lawsuit on our hands. I lifted bags of salt and sand to aid the ice thawing. My lower back is very very sore. I am very very tired. (I’ve given up giving up my afternoon coffee until Monday, what’s the point?) 

 Please come home. 
 
Your main duties before 10 am tomorrow include: 
Clean up of dog poop in backyard so our guests do not need to see dog shit when they eat.
Place a leaf in the kitchen table
Continue with the removal of ice in our driveway. It is fucking dangerous. The kids were falling all over. I have come to realize I do not have the physical capability to break up thawing ice and haul it upwards onto massive snow piles while trying to not slip myself and keep an eye on our kids who decided sledding down one of the snow hills on a sled onto said icy driveway was a “cool idea.” although I gave t a good shot. 
Pour your wife a glass of wine.
Rub her back and feet (sitting – did I do that today?) 
Do the dishes.
Stop at 10 pm and please watch a show with me. In our bed. Comfy where I do not have to move. 
 
I realize you are also insanely busy, but it is nearing 5 pm. Come home and take care of me and help me take care of the house. Please. 
Sincerely, 
Your very tired wife who isn’t sure how she is going to survive another birthday year.
 
Being a nice guy, he jumped the first train home. 
Maybe I can start moving, kick the kids off the TV which I haven’t the energy to turn off and get dinner ready before he gets home. Maybe. 
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