Tired Mom Diary – Chapter 5 – Great Work. Approved.
On Monday, Gord called me at 7:42 a.m.
I was in the bathroom.
Not using it. Hiding in it.
There’s a difference.
“Your system doesn’t work,” he said.
“Good morning, Gord.”
“The warehouse numbers are wrong.”
“Which warehouse?”
“The north one.”
Of course.
The north warehouse is becoming the fourth member of my family. It needs constant attention, complains about everything, and apparently cannot function without me.
At least it doesn’t ask for snacks.
Tuesday morning, Nora refused to wear socks.
Not all socks.
Just the seventeen pairs she owns.
“They feel weird.”
“They’re socks.”
“The line hurts.”
“What line?”
“The toe line.”
I turned one pair inside out.
She looked at me like I’d performed surgery.
“Better.”
I have solved actual business emergencies in less time.
Ben walked in.
“Why is she wearing her socks inside out?”
“Don’t.”
He made coffee.
Smart man.
Wednesday was a good day.
Gord finally agreed to the revised plan.
Eleven months of complaints. Three warehouses. Forty trucks. Two account managers before me.
One email.
Approved. No further changes.
I read it twice.
Then I read it again.
I wanted to print it.
Frame it.
Maybe take it to dinner.
My boss, Diane, stopped at my desk.
“Gord approved?”
“Yep.”
“Great work.”
Two words.
No follow-up questions.
Nobody asked where the scissors were.
Nobody needed a snack.
Nobody changed their mind because the blue cup was in the dishwasher.
For approximately six minutes, I was finished with something.
I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.
At 5:41 p.m., I pulled into the driveway.
Ben was inside making dinner.
Nora was wearing one sock.
The other sock was on the porch.
I don’t know why.
I sat in the car for another three minutes.
Last month I thought that was strange.
Now I’m considering keeping a blanket in here.
Thursday evening, I tried to take a bath.
I ran the water.
Found a candle.
Put my phone on silent.
A luxury resort experience, except the resort was our bathroom and there was a plastic dinosaur beside the toilet.
I got in.
Two minutes later:
“Mom?”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes?”
“Where’s my purple marker?”
“Ask Dad.”
“He said to ask you.”
Of course he did.
“Craft drawer.”
A pause.
“Which one?”
“The one with the markers.”
Another pause.
“Mom?”
“What?”
“Can you come?”
I looked at the bubbles.
They were disappearing.
Relatable.
I got out.
The purple marker was in her hand.
I went back upstairs.
The water was cold.
The dinosaur was still there.
I envied him.
THINGS I FINISHED THIS WEEK
Gord’s revised implementation plan.
Two loads of laundry.
A school lunch.
An entire cup of coffee. Once.
THINGS THAT ARE SOMEHOW STILL NOT FINISHED
Laundry.
School lunches.
Finding socks.
The bathroom.
My bath.
Friday night, Ben brought home takeout.
He’d ordered my favourite.
Remembered the extra sauce.
Remembered I don’t like the onions.
He put everything on plates while I sat at the kitchen island.
“How was your week?” he asked.
“Good.”
“Really?”
“Gord approved the plan.”
“That’s great.”
“It is.”
He leaned over and kissed me.
“Then you’re off duty tonight.”
I looked at the kitchen.
The lunch containers were drying beside the sink.
Nora’s school bag was open on the floor.
Somewhere upstairs, the washing machine was beeping.
“Okay,” I said.
Then I got up to turn off the washing machine.
Ben watched me.
“I said you’re off duty.”
“I know.”
“Then sit down.”
“I just need to -“
He raised an eyebrow.
I sat.
For twelve seconds.
Then Nora shouted from upstairs.
“MOOOOOM!”
Ben stood up.
“I’ve got her.”
I watched him go.
A minute later, I heard her laugh.
He didn’t need me.
I ate a piece of chicken.
It was still hot.
That almost never happens.