So this week Hope is back in school.
A moment of joy silence for the end of summer vacation.
She’s fine, just anxious about band stuff, but getting on swimmingly.
Getting us back on schedule and committing to exercising daily and running Hope everywhere she needs to go has damn near killed me.
I had such hopes for the week. I was meal planning just 5 days ago. I was planning on making homemade ramen (she loves it), a Kraft chicken and broccoli braid thing (she loves that too) and maybe some more pulled pork bbq.
I was going to take Yappy to the dog park. I was going to crush my walking and stretching goals.
Sooooooo, yeah, then reality hit and I’m one step above drooling on the couch by 8pm.
I have kinda kept up with the walking, but the weather turned hot again.
Hot weather meant that Yappy’s park time got cut back.
Band practices and tutoring ran later than expected.
I needed to run some unexpected errands because *someone who is not me* keeps stepping on her earbuds.
And then there was dinner….poor dinner.
After a long day, I ask, “Hey Hope, you hungry?”
“Nah, not really. I don’t want anything.”
Me silently: thank you sweet baby Jesus, because all I was only going to suggest you make yourself a sandwich out of that Costco rotisserie chicken or that salami that you didn’t eat last week. Otherwise, I got nothing but like some cheese toast to offer you.
I have relied on my daughter’s low appetite all week justify not cooking dinner.
<hangs head in mock shame>
I figure, she’s a teenager, if she’s hungry, she’ll eat, right? There’s food in the house; she’ll be fine. It’s only a few days and no ribs are showing.
I’ve been living on sandwiches, hummus and wine or cider all week, kinda like when I was a single, no kid-having person. Next stop will be cereal, so I figure, I haven’t hit rock bottom yet.
Note to self: buy some Lucky Charms in case of exhaustion emergency.
I’m so tired, like I’m “fantasizing about sleep” tired. I can’t wait until Saturday when I drop her off for an event and let Yappy run at the park for 45 minutes. I will then retire to my beloved couch. I’m there, so there. I pray nothing gets in my way of realizing this beautiful fantasy.
In the meantime, there’s a kid pickup to make, a podcast to record and a paltry chicken sandwich to make—with a side of chips.
Did you catch that shameless plug for Add Water and Stir?