Mama Strike

I want to go on a strike. A diaper changing strike. I house cleaning strike. A laundry strike. A cooking hiatus. I sabbatical from being responsible. See the thing is, I started out doing these things with a pleasant attitude. But these tasks are never done. The diapers keep coming, and coming. I'll change one and think I am good for a couple of hours and head out of the house to run errands. It's usually at a store or a park sans changing table that I realize Iv been called back to the line of duty...and I forgot the wipes. And these kids, they keep eating. Well sort of. One morning I make them gourmet scrambled eggs with sauteed veggies and three kinds of cheese and they gobble it up. Then the very next morning they are screaming for more, only to turn their noses up at the meal when it arrives at the table, they would prefer a frozen waffle please.

And the cleaning. Don't get me started. Yes I admit it- I pay a lovely cleaning woman to visit us every other week and de-funk our home, but only days later the place is a pit and I am chasing everyone around with a broom. The animals keep shedding, and someone keeps throwing cheerios on the floor. The tiny house looks like a tornado went through by 8 am.

As far as this responsibility thing goes.... it can be boring. Even when granted a rare grown-up night out without children, we are checking our cell phones, and watching the clock. We don't want to get home past ten. The rug rats still rise at 6am, and they are hungry, and thirsty, and need their DIAPERS changed. What happened to staying out past midnight and not waving the waitress away after only two drinks saying "I can't possibly". Okay so I have a sensible mom hair-do, but I still want to let it down so to speak.

Before a loyal reader calls social services on me, I promise I love my children.... I just want a little break. A no-mothering-duties-what-so-ever week. Or weekend, I won't be greedy.

Speaking of diapers. My temporary strike is over. The odor wins.