Ah the weekend. Time to put those weary feet up and relax…
Except the baby needs changing. The toddler has been up since 5am. Everyone wants breakfast, but not THAT stupid breakfast. Soccer starts at 9am and we can’t find the shin pads. Hubby wants to visit his parents for lunch (fun times!) and stop at Bunnings to look at paint colours for the bathroom.
Poor Fido is itching for that walk I’ve been promising all week (or perhaps he just has fleas). Then there’s my friend’s baby shower in the afternoon. Oh, and I need to pick up cardboard for that school project we’ve been trying to ignore. Weekend plans eh? Frankly, I’m done with them.
I’m wondering what would happen if I quit the whole shebang for just one weekend. Dream with me for a moment will you mums? What would you do with some time to yourself? Let’s call it “a weekend with no plans”. (Gosh, I get goosebumps just saying that out loud.)
I’m not asking for a girl’s weekend away. Nor a romantic dinner at a five-star winery. Just nothing. No agenda, no alarm, no responsibilities.
Weekend plans dumped
Dear Weekend Plans,
We need to take a break. It’s not you, it’s me. Honestly? I’ve met someone new: a blank schedule. And I am smitten.
What’s the attraction? Firstly, a big fat sleep-in. No-one is touching me, no-one is calling my name, no-one is demanding I get up and find their purple hairbrush. It’s heaven on 1000-thread-count sheets.
As my eyes flicker open, I contemplate my responsibilities and then remember with a spine-tingling thrill: I’m free. The kids are at their grandparents, the hubster is on a golfing weekend (or lost at sea, whatevs). It’s just me, and a vast 48-hour stretch of nothingness.
I contemplate getting up to enjoy doing whatever the hell I want, but within minutes I’ve hit the snooze button and am comatose again. Several hours later I roll out of bed and take a shower. Alone. For a looooong time. Oh Weekend Plans, I’m afraid I don’t miss you at all.
What to do when you’ve got nothing to do?
What’s next? I think I’m just going to stay home. Rest up on the couch with a book, aimlessly scroll my Facebook feed. Or maybe I’ll binge out on Netflix until my eyes roll back in my head. Though I could go to the cinema. Or take a stroll on the beach. Or indulge in some retail therapy without kiddos hanging from my leg.
But that would mean I’d need to get dressed and leave the house. Which I’m just not willing to do. Though if I wanted, I could. And that is the point. I could simply walk out the door without first finding shoes, socks, drink bottles, snacks and changes of clothes for the kids. I could just Go. Out.
Yes, there are jobs to do, a two-week backlog of laundry, a shower that is so dirty it’s threatening our foot health. I could call the plumber about that leaking tap or weed the Amazon jungle that we call the garden. But nah, that would mean getting back together with you, Weekend Plans… and we’re on a break, remember?
Options are endless when no-one wants a piece of you
Tomorrow I might go to the gym. Or I might not. Might check out those organic markets. Might wander around all day at home with no pants on and no birthday parties to attend. I definitely will not watch any form of junior sport.
Ah Weekend Plans, I do love the joy you bring me. Family time and friend catch-ups make my life meaningful. But this little affair with the no-plan weekend? Gotta admit, I’m in lurve.
Don’t worry, I’m a bit of a floozy, we’ll resume our relationship next weekend. But I’m always going to fantasize about my delicious no-plan weekend. I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.
Yours for the foreseeable future,
Exhausted mum xx
