Mondays suck. Pretty sure everyone can agree to that. But when you’re a stay at home mom, Mondays are even worse.
Monday: Worst Day Ever
As a mom of 5 I would have to say that Mondays are the absolute worst day of the week. Everyone is exhausted from staying up late on the weekend. And mommy is exhausted from everything that has to be done on the weekends and the lack of sleep. My one-year-old can’t sleep through the night for anything no matter how tired he is or how full he is.
The kids all want to sleep in on Monday mornings. Then they drag the rest of the day when they have to get up early. They’re grouchy because they would rather sleep in and not do anything all day instead of getting up and actually accomplishing something. Hell, I wish I could sleep in and not accomplish anything, but I’m mom and that just doesn’t happen.
Here We Go Again
Mondays start the whole crazy week. If it’s a bad day then you can pretty much bet that’s how the whole week is going to be. Or at least in our house.
It seems like every Monday drags on and on. It becomes an endless 24 hour day.
If phone calls need to be made then I’m going to be on the phone for hours. Everyone wants to make their calls on Mondays.
Hope that nobody in your house gets sick over the weekend. Getting in to see a doctor on a Monday pretty much just doesn’t happen unless you’re near death.
If a holiday falls on a Monday then the day drags on even more. You can’t get much accomplished especially when places aren’t open for business.
Monday means the weekly grind is starting again. That all too short “break” (if you are lucky enough to get one) is over and way too fast.
Since the weekend is “break” time that usually means that not a whole lot gets done besides eating a lot (mostly junk), drinking (if you’re that kind of person), going out, or maybe staying up way too late. If nothing, or very little, is getting done around the house then when Monday comes I’m standing here hair in a messy bun, pjs on with one leg pulled up, coffee in my hand and just thinking “What the hell happened here?”. Exactly what happens every Monday morning.
It’s not that I just totally take the weekend off and do nothing. Face it, if I didn’t do something every day of every week of every year then absolutely nothing would get done. Children would starve and run around in shitty diapers and dirty clothes. The cats would run away looking for a meal. And the house would probably catch fire and burn to the ground.
Break It, Break It All
Shit breaks on Mondays. The dishwasher started smelling like burnt rubber and just stopped. The toilet won’t drain. The outbound bathroom pipes burst…into the crawl space. The dryer stopped drying. It all happens on a Monday. And why not? It’s a sucky day so let’s just make it worse. But hey, it’s Monday right so that gives the repairman all week to fix it…right? Nope, it’ll be next week sometime, if you’re lucky.
Everywhere you go is busy. Mondays bring out the crowds. On the roads, at the store, in line at the gas station. Everyone and their brother’s girlfriend’s sister’s best friend’s mother decided that Monday is the day that they need to do absolutely everything.
Let’s Eat, Or Not
Mealtime is awful. You’re either eating the weekend leftovers, a frozen pizza, or pb&j sandwiches because nobody has the energy or the time to cook a meal. Nobody wants the same thing so it ends up being like an all you can eat smoargasboard. Or you just say fuck it and tell everyone to make their own food. So your 4-year-old eats chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate (made by an older sibling). Your 9-year-old eats a lunchable. The 14-year-old eats salsa and chips. And your 15-year-old finds some random leftover and eats barely enough to fill a baby up. Whatever…it’s Monday.
The sleep routine that everyone has finally gotten in to is all jacked up so nobody can sleep at the right time or stay asleep. The baby wakes up multiple times because he’s hungry and then dirty and then hungry again. He’s cranky as hell so he’s screaming and crying off and on all night. Damn teeth coming in. And medicine didn’t help a bit. He also keeps bouncing his head off the side of the bed and then standing up to let you know his dissatisfaction in the whole Monday situation.
The 4-year-old decides she can only sleep in bed with you which isn’t happening because your husband barely gives you enough room or quiet to sleep and adding another person to that madness isn’t happening. So instead she sleeps on the couch and you repeatedly check on her to make sure she hasn’t fallen in the floor or lost her blanket yet again. The 9-year-old starts having night terrors again and that’s just freaking fabulous because those damn things are scary as hell. The 14-year-old gets a bloody nose or starts throwing up in the middle of the night, either way…so much fun. And your husband continuously elbows, kicks, lies on you, pushes, or snores into your face all night long. The only one that actually sleeps, or at least just stays in their own bed and doesn’t bother you, is the 15-year-old.
Bye Bye Weekend, Hello Stupid Monday
Monday means the weekend is nowhere close to being here. It’s so far away that you can’t even picture it.
Even as a stay at home mom Mondays suck. No, I don’t get to stay in my pjs all day watching talk shows while surfing my social media pages. Or get to sleep in or lay around on the couch all day and be unproductive. I don’t get to tackle my to-do list while the kids are peacefully napping. All that crazy fun over the weekend has thrown a kink in the routine of everyone in the house and guess who has to get everything and everyone back on track…yep, me.
Mondays are when my husband goes back to work. One of a few things happens over the weekends while he’s home. One…we all do absolutely nothing. I mean, if he gets a couple of days off from everything then why can’t I? Two…we all do everything. Like I literally try to fit two thousand activities into one weekend to make up for those weekends when we very literally do absolutely nothing. Or three…he helps, like a whole lot. Which when this happens, makes me really miss him when he goes back to work Monday morning.
Monday also means my husband is gone for 11 hours out of every day and then only home and awake for 7 hours. So that means that I only have 7 hours out of every day (during the week) in which I can have adult human interaction.
Unless we’re counting the little old ladies (or men) that tell me numerous times how adorable my kids are while shopping and then try to give them a sucker or a quarter, all the while I’m rolling my eyes and quietly gagging just thinking about how evil and bratty these “adorable” kids really are. Or the gas station attendant who pretty much knows my drink order when i go through the drive through and always makes sure to tell me to have a good day and calls me “hun”, I like her.
Maybe that phone call from a telemarketer who says his name is John and that he’s in Wisconsin but I know in reality that is totally not the case in the slightest. Or a few words exchanged between me and one of my favorite cashiers at the store, the ones who already know when they ask how my day is that I’m going to sigh and just say “I have 5 kids so…”.
To Do and Do and Do
The to-do list starts all over again on Mondays. And that’s something I dread always. It seems like as the week goes on and things get marked off the to-do list then new things get added. And of course over the weekend a million more things get added. Like…”Oh yeah mom, I just remembered I need…”. That’s always my favorite. They need x and y and z and they needed it all last Wednesday or they need it Monday morning and they magically “remember” Sunday night at 10:30. Ugh!
The calls and appointments, visits with friends and family, errands and whatever else may come up just keep adding up and piling on to the to-do list. I hate that list almost as much as I hate Mondays. Having a to-do list means that those things need to get done.
And when you have 5 kids and a husband, who let’s face it…is just like another bigger kid, well it gets hectic and crazy and hard to figure out when all of that stuff will actually get accomplished. So in order to get it all done that means I have to plan and prioritize. This and this and this will need to be done this day and that and that and that can wait until that day. Then this and that and this need to be done on a day before 12 and these 4 things can be done later in the day when kids are napping. Pain. In. My. Ass.
Let’s Change All the Plans
Of course nothing ever goes as planned because one kid gets sick in the middle of the night so you have to make an unexpected 6 hour ER trip at 2 in the morning. Or a kid gets sick at school or your 4-year-old pees their pants at preschool. Dad gets sick and has to miss work or heaven forbid, mom gets sick…but that actually changes nothing. A kid throws a tantrum so grocery shopping gets put on hold. A kid has a meltdown so the day is ruined and you cancel everything and spend your day eating chocolate and drinking hot tea in your pjs while crying into a pillow and hiding it because…why do they do it?!
Most Mondays I wake up at least in a decent mood. And I think “OK world, I need and want to do these things this morning and this time it’s going to happen”. But of course starting the laundry and dishes early, getting a little cleaning that’s been put off too long, and having a nice relaxing cup of coffee or hot tea while leisurely reading through a couple of chapters of a book I’ve had for over 3 months but still have yet to start…well all that stuff just won’t happen. Why? Because my life is run by 5 tiny (ok so 2 aren’t so tiny anymore) humans who call me mom despite the fact that I’ve told them numerous times that isn’t my name anymore.
Sometimes, but only occasionally, I really wish I had a normal 8 to 5 job that required me to have an alarm clock. Instead my days start whenever my alarm clock, AKA His Highness, decides that the day should start and cruelly awakens me by screaming, crying, throwing something at me, or a combination of the three. This means my day could start at 5 am or I could be lucky enough to not have to start until 7, which honestly rarely ever happens.
Of course I also have a 4-year-old who also can’t tell time and if “the sun is awake so I’m awake” is how she knows it’s time to get up then the summers really suck because 5 am is way too early to be up when absolutely nobody in the house has a damn thing that just has to be done all day during the summer. (P.S. If you don’t get the reference she’s talking about then you need to watch Frozen. While not exactly what is said in the movie, it’s pretty close and for a 4-year-old she’s damn smart to change it around to work in her favor.)
It’s now Tuesday night, just a couple hours until bedtime. And I’m exhausted. This didn’t get posted Sunday as planned and then not again on Monday either. Guess why? Cause Mondays suck.