Now I know a lot of people love their Fridays, but I do not think it is for the same reason I do. Most people look forward to Friday because it is their last day of work for the week (except for those in the service industry, thank you!). Being unemployed kind of takes that out of the equation for me, so that is not why I love my Fridays. For a giant group of people, Fridays are pay days. Again, being unemployed kind of takes that out of the equation for me (I'm getting better at math with all these equations!). No, I love my Fridays because my kids go back to their mother's house.
See I told you I would not win any Father of the Year awards (or any new friends for that matter) with this part of the blog. Now I only ask that you hear me out before you come after me with pitchforks and torches. My custody arrangement is 50/50. Friday is the back-and-forth day. So, for example, this last Friday, I got my kids ready for school and the babysitter's house and once they were dropped off, my week was over.
What this means is I am essentially a single-dad for a week at at time, which like this last week, can feel like an eternity. My kids are really good, for the most part, but every once in a while they are kidsastors.
Every night I have to sit with my daughter, Ave, for about an hour to get her to fall asleep. When you have homework, or a son constantly calling for you, or a hot date with the couch this can be a little taxing. You just want to go Sammy Jackson on her and say Go the F to Sleep (you need to click on that and laugh for a long time), but that clearly is not the proper way to handle this situation. Well this week it was even longer. She wanted to watch a movie in her room, nope not gonna happen (especially since it was the crappy new version of Willie Wonka, seriously Tim Burton, just stop already). She wanted a snack, nope not gonna happen, she should have eaten dinner. She wanted a different blanket, nope not gonna happen, she should not have spilled chocolate milk on it the day before.
So I cave, as I think most dads will do with a waist-high, blonde-haired, blue-eyed princess, and I start the movie (my brother-in-law looks like the new oompa loompas), get her a banana (then apple slices because the banana wasn't good, then crackers because nothing says comfortable sleep like crumbs in your bed) and finally I dig the dirty blanket out of the laundry (it's better than her being cold and waking me up at 3 am). She is the anti-Sleeping Beauty, so I guess that makes her the Waking Beast (hey Disney, good luck with that marketing campaign).
When Ave finally falls asleep it is time to get Luke ready for bed. He has never been a problem getting ready for bed, but since I am writing this entry, clearly he was this week. The one night he was playing a video game (I officially hate them all and I can't believe I liked them), and I told him he had to go to bed the next time his character died. I heard his character go down in a not-so-blaze of glory, and told him it was bed time. This did not sit well with Luke. He went into full meltdown mode, which of course woke his sister up...I wanted to go into Operation Shutdown, but being by myself (serious kudos to full-time single parents) I had to start the whole process over again.
Ave is an antagonizer. She likes to get a rise out of her brother and she knows exactly how to do it. This week she was the Pablo Picasso of antagonizing. Luke came home from school and did not want to do his homework (which usually doesn't happen), I told him no games or snacks until he did at least half of it. He whined (damn you Caillou!) but eventually he realized I was not going to cave. Well Ave had no issues just picking at him...and picking at him...and picking at him...it was like a vulture going after the bleached bones of a meal. I tried my best to intervene, but sometimes the water just beats the dam. He flipped out, big time. I told him no games or TV the rest of the night (along with Ave as well) and he ran to his room slamming the door. With Luke, trying to calm him down is better with hugs and love. I did that, he calmed down a bit and we went out to the living room. It took Ave all of two seconds to get him going again. i wanted to pull out that secret bottle of something that we all know Caillou's mom is hiding.
So those instances, along with the normal nightly issues of Luke not wanting to eat what I cook, Avery not wanting to get out of the bath, both of them disagreeing on what show to watch, etc., I had no issue texting someone "Woohoo...I dropped my kids off!" on Friday morning.
I mean, I guess there were a few fun moments this week. I thoroughly enjoyed Avery painting my toenails (I wish I had nail polish remover). I was so proud at Luke's parent-teacher conference when the teacher said he was so smart and a joy to have in class. I was even prouder when I saw his report card (he is the next Einstein and Edison rolled into one). Sure, Avery telling me that I am a bad singer and that I should stop was cute. If you twisted my arm, I would have to admit that watching a Pens game with son has become one of my favorite things in the world (he is so into it and cheers so loud). Fine, Avery "helping" me make dinner a couple nights is so adorable I just want to squeeze her. And yes, Luke wearing the Pitt Panther winter hat makes me want to burst.
The times they are not going after each other they can be so cute it makes a kitten look like Gary Busey, like when Luke tried to teach Ave how to read or how to count past 15. And if I had to admit it, watching the two of them wrestle and laugh beats any game on tv. But...
But...but...umm...so...is it Friday yet, I miss my stud and punkinhead.
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