And he's baaaaack!!! Thank God!

So, Jim is finally back from his company trip to Chicago... a trip I should've been on as well, but that's a whole other Oprah... and since I am bitter, we'll just have to skip it.

He was gone from Thursday to Monday, which sounds like a long time, and then sounds like an even longer time if you are a mom with two little rascals, swim lessons to go to, work meetings, a new boss... and a FULL weekend looming ahead of you with said little rascals - a weekend in which you'll have to figure out how to work on your tan, watch the kids at the pool, read your latest novel, clean house and do laundry. And let's not forget the ever present pets...

Let's preface this whole "adventure" by saying that we all are still alive and well... and fed... and clean...

So here's what I had planned with hubby out of town. I was going to finally have some ME time after the girls got to bed (8:30 p.m. the latest) for luxurious bubble baths accompanied by candle-light, wine or probably the much-loved Cosmo (the drink, not the dog), and the previously mentioned novel. And since I'd have no-one to answer to in the late hours at night, I was FINALLY going to catch up with all that scrap-booking and start Katarina's book (she's almost two, by the way, and yes, I said "start"). Oh, yes! And of course I'd find the time to work out.

Instead, let's go with the reality check of what my week was really like...

...the night before:
I haven't slept. My adorable but highly disorganized husband didn't finish packing until close to 11 p.m. Larissa ended up in my bed, and somehow Jim ended up downstairs. And we both woke up on the hour afraid to miss his 4 a.m. alarm. Finally he's up (thanks to me no less), and now I can go back to sleep... or not!

Day 1, Thursday:
I'm up. I'm organized. I'm in the shower and out... and I'm so freaking tired I can't figure out whether I should soap my hair and shampoo my body or the other way around... but it's early, so a couple of minutes in the shower won't hurt too much. I change, get the girls up and changed. Down for breakfast before 7:00 a.m., as per pre-established routine, so far, so good. Coffee... maybe not (BAD idea). Breakfast for the girls, let's eat, get lunches ready, clean the kitchen... it's 7:35 a.m. per departure goal. YES! I've done it!

Oh-oh... forgot to feed the dog... And didn't get a chance for breakfast, so I'm going to be hungry and cranky pretty soon.

Swim lesson - skip, early meeting. Work day went well, and I did go swim for 20 min., so the workout has been handled. I look forward to the evening after the girls are in bed, and I have my book, and the tub, and whatever...

Evening comes... let's feed the girls, clean the kitchen yet again, and let's not forget the poor, hungry dog again... even if it turns out I fed her cat food. Baths go ok, even if I'm pretty tired by now... I take them to bed; Larissa and I pray together, and voilá! I've done it... now as to me... 8:30 p.m. and I'm out. So much for tub, wine, reading, etc. Didn't even stay awake long enough for "So you think you can dance"...


Day 2, Friday:
Oh... I slept so good... oops.. time to get up and get started all over again. This time, I remembered to clean up the cat litter and refill the cats' food and water. Routine goes as well as yesterday, so no changes there, except now I have coffee I prepared the night before and managed to sit down and eat something too. We leave at 7:45 a.m., which is still good time. No swim lesson today.

Work goes as usual... except I'm so happy it's Friday that I can hardly wait. And I skipped out early from a late afternoon event to go swim for another 20 min (I usually do 30, but time's running short). Go get the girls, and here's where you can tell I'm absolutely brilliant: I decide to go to Costco with the two of them, since we need some stuff... yeah.

I know now the error of my ways. Costco on a good day is ok. With the two of them, it's a challenge. And it's just plain tiring. At least I managed to keep them IN the cart, despite repeated efforts to the contrary on Katarina's part. Add to that I am tired (remember my swim?), and hungry, and so are the girls. 2+2=disaster.

We're out, we're gone, we're at home. I turn into what I consider the negligent mother and feed them chicken nuggets straight out of the box I found at Costco, instead of going into my usual "let's-cook-dinner-from-scratch" routine (I know... I know...) And since it's Friday, I'll just give them a bath tomorrow morning. Fed, changed, and into bed. And here goes my second night. I actually made myself a Cosmo (I prefer them with Cointreau), got in my PJs and hopped into bed. And made it until 9:30 p.m. Woo-hoo! I'm living dangerously... yeah...

Day 3, Saturday:
The weekend turned out to be better than I expected, largely because we were more relaxed without the ever-looming schedule. I did figure I'd have to clean the house some, especially since I could actually enjoy a couple of days of keeping it clean. We went to the lagoon at Rancho Santa Margarita and spent a couple of hours there. I like to get there early around 10:00 a.m. to avoid the crowds and get a nice spot. The girls were quite good for about 1.5 hours, after which time they got into a screaming match over a towel, and Katarina had a meltdown, so I was forced to take them back home. But I was able to work on my tan in preparation for our Maui vacation, finish reading one of my books, and watch the girls without a glitch. Larissa practiced her "swimming" with her hot-pink goggles, and Katarina spent time playing in the sand and venturing a little bit into the water.

We went home, had lunch, and the girls took a nice, long nap (emphasis on LONG). I let out my aggressive tendencies on the kitchen sink and counter, with the help of a sponge and a cleaner with bleach. A little while later, I had a beautiful and sparkling clean kitchen in which to cook... my dream come true!

The rest of the day is now a blur. I did started a new book (Ricochet, by Sandra Brown), made dinner, and left the bathrooms and vacuuming for the next day.

And I made it back into the grown-up world by staying up until about 11:30 p.m. I even watched a whole movie without falling asleep! It's like growing up all over again...

Day 4, Sunday:Sunday started with waffles once the little squirts decided to wake up. I swept and vacuumed, which I haven't done in a long time (Jim's the one who beats me to that chore, and I don't complain about it). It was actually somewhat therapeutic... go figure. We changed and went to the pool this time. While Larissa and Katarina splashed in the wading pool, I read my book (a paragraph at a time if I was lucky). Then I made the mistake of going to the trash can... on the way back, as I turned back in slow motion, I caught sight of my little terror, who had gotten a hold of my book. No big deal, right? I mean, I catch her with my books all the time, paging through and losing my spot, and granted a couple of times she's tried to pull the pages, but what else could she try to do? Especially since I was calling her name to make her stop... right?

Wrong. My little terror very studiously took the book with her to the wading pool, very carefully and slowly lowered the spine of said book in the water, as I moved in even slower motion to try to get to her. She very quickly decided that perhaps that wasn't the best idea. Instead, she just dropped the entire book in the water while I watched it sink to the step below. Yes. My novel was now wet - it originally was supposed to be suspenseful and steamy. So imagine this: a wet book, and pages that have wrinkled to double the width of the spine. It's still drying on my nightstand, and curling some more.

We made it back home eventually, had lunch, and down they were for some more of those long naps. And some more cleaning - this time, the bathrooms didn't stand a chance. I was on a mission!

Eventually night came along. We had dinner, but don't asked me what we ate. Nothing too fancy, but I did make a trifle cake (chocolate, of course). They went to bed, I tried to read some more wet pages. And then the night really got started...

That night...
Katarina was in rare form. She cried at least every hour on the hour, if not more. Eventually, as the cries got louder and more frequent, I capitulated and decided to get her out of the crib and help Larissa stay asleep.

I sent Larissa to my bed to sleep. I then got Katarina on Larissa's bed and snuggled with her in the hopes that she would sleep. It was roughly 1:15 a.m. As I finally started falling asleep with my baby next to me, Larissa started crying. Back up to check on her this time - "mommy, I don't want to sleep here all by myself!" I go back to Katarina, who at 1:40 a.m. now, is wide awake and ready to play, and who very enthusiastically tells me "hi, mommy!!!" I tell her sissy needs me and ask her to come to my bed. She says "no bed mommy". I ask her then if she's ok staying in bed by herself. She nods, and I leave. She sleeps, and finally so do I. It's now about 2:30 a.m.

Day 5, Monday:
5:30 a.m. "Mommy! Pee-pee!!" My sleep is interrupted, the cruel joke continues. I open one eye (not enough strength to open both...) Katarina is smiling wide and proud as she announces her latest bodily function. I assume she's peed on her diaper and get her in bed with me and Larissa. She sits there and babbles on and on. "Katy, want to go to your room?" "No!" she says, so she stays quiet for a few minutes. About 20 min. since her arrival I realize her pride wasn't contained to her words. She had actually taken off her diaper and was on my bed in her bare bottom. "Katy. Bring me a new diaper, so I can put it on you" (all this in Spanish, by the way, the only language I speak to my children). "Ok!" comes the chirpy response. She runs to her room and comes back. Smile wide and proud again, and in her hand the used diaper she slept and peed in... yuck. Time to get up I guess.

The routine starts all over again. Up, shower, change, run mental list of ideas for something to wear, run second mental list of things to do: sheets and blankets for the daycare, swimming gear for Larissa's class, lunches... There's no way I'm getting into the office before class, so I slow down a bit and do some email checking from home. We have breakfast, go through the toothbrushing routine, start getting all the bags and packs in the car... get the kids in. Larissa has no shoes. Go back in looking for my phone and Larissa's shoes, and I can't remember what else. I get the what else, forget the shoes and the phone (actually, at this point I had no clue where I'd left it)... but don't notice until we drop off Katarina...

While I may not get the "mother of the year" award, I figure it's not too, too, too bad to forget her shoes, since they spend most of their time at the daycare barefoot, so what the hell. I carry her in my arms to and from her swimming lesson, and back to the daycare. Go to work on 3.5 hours sleep and not enough coffee to counteract the effects of sleep deprivation. My heel tab comes off as I walk to a meeting across the way from my building, so now I'm forced to take a page off Larissa's book and go barefoot as well, at least in the office. I get my secret weapon out: I've got sneakers behind my door! Doesn't do much to keep me looking stylish, but I can walk outside of my building without looking like orphan Annie. I skip the swim - I can barely keep my thoughts organized, forget working out.

Then Jim shows up!! He's actually back! And he looks rested and refreshed... the bastard... but who cares. I've missed him too much to resent the irony of it. The work day comes to an end, and I go to get Larissa. Turns out I didn't just forget her shoes. I'd forgotten her lunch as well - well, not quite, since it was still in my trunk, but c'mon! I actually forgot my kid's lunch!!! Now I feel horrible.

And just like that, it's over. Jim's back, and now we can go back to juggling an insane schedule and the girls, and hopefully having one remember half of the things the other forgets. It's a balance, and it works. At least for us.

And that's my reality check.