As a mother, there is always something to do, so resting always falls short. (A quick update for all parents: resting is what you used to call free time before you had children!). This weekend, I wanted to have a 'real' weekend for once. No housework, no work. My dearest husband also took some time off, and for once, there will be no work done this weekend. Neither for the company, nor in the garden, nor in the house.
The plan for my 'real' weekend
First of all, you have to plan to be away from home for the entire weekend. Because if you are at home, you automatically fall into 'tidying-up mode'. As soon as something is lying around, you see the dirty laundry or the dirty dishes that need to be put away. So, I planned both Saturday and Sunday from morning till night. First, a trip to the Wechsel mountains, in the evening to a festival near us, Sunday Mark's tennis tournament, and then the Roman festival in Carnuntum. In the evening, even a family celebration. Quick check, no free time at home, and I don't have to cook either. This should mean not much dirt or dishes will accumulate.
The real weekend begins
A leisurely wake-up and breakfast. Finally. There are hardly any dishes from breakfast. But the kids make a bit of a mess while eating – "Just stay calm, I won't clean that up right now, it can wait for once," I hum to myself like a mantra. Then the backpack is quickly packed, everyone gets dressed, and we head off. A wonderful Saturday is spent with the family. We return in the evening. A quick change of clothes and we're off to the next event. So far, so good. Sunday morning, I start to feel restless. There are quite a few dishes in the kitchen. Where did they come from? My son calls out from his room: "Mom, why do I only have 2 pairs of underwear left in the drawer?". A look at the overflowing laundry basket confirms his statement. But I stay cool, and we head off to our next planned excursions on Sunday. Wonderful! Just like a vacation!
The mountain of laundry
After the family celebration on Sunday evening, the 'hangover' so to speak sets in. While the children are getting ready for bed at 7:45 PM, I turn into Medusa. I try to stuff dirty dishes into the dishwasher, clear the table (and the floor!) of dried-on breakfast remnants, and work through the huge mountain of laundry like a miner (is all of this really just our stuff? And why don't I have more washing machines available?). During my tidying work, my son comes in, wanting to prepare his clothes for tomorrow: "Mom, what am I supposed to use as underwear tomorrow? I don't have any fresh ones left?". I put him off by saying that I have already started the washing machine and will stay up late enough to put them in the dryer.
By 10:30 PM, I have everything somewhat back on track and underwear for my son. Shortly before 11 PM, I fall into bed exhausted and am not sure if I want to repeat such a 'real weekend' again.
