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Monday, Monday, Monday July 5, 2010

Posted by Erin F. Wasinger in Being a mama, It's how we roll.

I’m guarding my Mondays like no one’s business.

“We need the money,” Dave said a week ago, when the second of many, many hospital bills landed on our bank account like a bomb. “Seriously.”

“I know,” I snapped. I KNOW. I have searched every aisle of Walmart but I have not found a box full of dollar bills, so I KNOW this is one of those things I must do: Work, work, work. More hours during my Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays. So I started working four full days instead of my precious four half days.

Do not ask me how my soft, slumping stomach will find its way back north when I don’t have time to use the Wii Fit. Do not ask me how dishes will be done or how bottles get filled. It’s best to just assume the clothes on our backs have found their way through the washer and dryer cycle. Just don’t ask.

But the money … I love money. I love it. So, what are you going to do?

I’ll tell you what you’re going to do: You’re going to guard those precious Mondays off with your kids like they’re coated in gold flecks. You’re going to yell and kick and scream when these Mondays get taken away: Because it’s not about staying in your pajamas until 8:30 or 9, or the whole day alone with two kids — which isn’t that terrifying anymore, just kind of nice — is irreplaceable. Having Dave come home at 5 p.m., for good on his only day shift … irreplaceable.

You can steal away my half-days with Violet on Tuesdays to Fridays, and you can convince me our bank account thanks me for my sacrificing my FMLA hours for working full days — but you can’t have Mondays.

Today didn’t count, technically, since it was a holiday. But every other week: Mondays are MINE.

Mondays are building tents in the living room. Mondays are clean rooms, clean laundry, tasty dinners not eaten in shifts while the other holds a baby. I’m only agreeing to full days Tuesdays to Fridays because of my free Mondays. Do. Not. Touch.



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