10 September 2007

everything you ever wanted to know about my weekend

So you know how my last blog post left you with the pleasant image of me baking, then heading off goldpanning followed by an orchestral concert? And you all thought, oh, doesn’t she live the most gorgeous, relaxed, pink-hued life, surrounded by happy smiling musical children who never dream of playing gruesome gory games or ever refuse to get their hair cut and who know exactly how to entertain themselves in a productive, creative and thoroughly wholesome manner with little more than a seedpod and a bit of string?

Yes? Well, last night as I wearily plodded through the blogosphere, commenting on your blogs through a Guinness-tinged haze, Kim sent me a brief but endearing email that went something along the lines of:

"Good weekend?"

And I said (verbatim):

Exhausting.

Saturday: Son #3’s soccer Goalkick, at oval 9am sharp. Son #1’s final soccer match for season (different suburb and oval to Son #3’s of course). Then, Son#1’s violin lesson in afternoon on other side of town. Son #2 dragged along to these events, whining and complaining was bored. Rest of day filled in with laundry, vacuuming, making fish curry (sensational but too hot for littles, recipe available on request) and eating it around (new! Built by children!) outdoor firepit (inaugural firelighting ceremony! Much smoke. Retreat indoors). Stay up until midnight cruising blogland and cursing stupid crashing computer. Restart computer four times. Cry a little at lack of funds for new computer. And new car. And bathroom with tiles not cracked and mouldy and taps not faux (and tarnished) gold.

Sunday: Son #2’s final soccer match for season, 8.30am. Followed by special 'team break up brunch' held at, wait for it, McDonalds. Husband and Son #2 attend this, while #1, #3 and I stay home and do laundry, bake cake, bake bread, vacuum bathroom, place vacuum cleaner hopefully in bedroom with vague notion someone might take hint, no one does, blog briefly about knitting projects and plans for glorious musical sunny relaxed and wholesome day with beautiful talented family. Return to kitchen. Scrub stove. Go back to computer and empty camera memorycard onto computer so can take camera to artistically photodocument goldpanning and concert playing, children frollicking in Spring sunshine etc. Pack car with picnic rug, basket with thermos (forget mugs but remember camera), two children, incredibly expensive violin and now cooling cake for fundraiser afternoon tea later at concert, and head to goldpanning event at river. Attend goldpanning with Son #3’s class and their families (this class big on community family outings). Lie on picnic rug drinking tea in sunshine (out of lid of thermos) and gossipping chatting with other mothers while children attempt to find gold in river and cry when fail, grab pies from bakery for lunch because didn’t have time to pack delicious organic homemade lunch. Feel nervous at thought of incredibly expensive violin sitting in car. Son #1 announces he’s bored. Tell him to go read his (gruesome gory violent) book in the car, thus violin-sitting at same time. He refuses, preferring to sulk and roll eyes near me. Husband and Son #2 arrive at river from Son #2’s soccer match in which his team were soundly thrashed 11-1 (one child in opposite team nabbed for Manchester United trials, that's the calibre of the team they were playing against, they're eleven years old for fuck’s sake [whoops, swearing en blogge alert]). Son #2 cries when tells of defeat and because team has been soundly thrashed by all teams, all season long, also cries from tummy ache from McDonalds egg and sausage McMuffin (because tummy used to wholesome organic shiny happy food). Son #3 crying from lack of gold (I know the feeling). Son #2 throws off tummy ache and attempts goldpanning. Sulks at lack of gold (I know the feeling). Son #1 bored and teenagerish and asking to go to library to borrow more hideous cd's to illegally copy and add to his collection. Husband takes Son #1 to library to escape crying and sulking children and mothers' gossip chat. Son #2 and Son #3 whine they're bored. Husband and Son #1 return from library. Off to next event! Move violin and music and cake from my car to husband's car to drive in one car (tread lightly on earth, save petrol etc) to school orchestra concert. I drop cake on dusty, bark-laden ground. Stand frozen, say shitshitshit three times very fast, hope no one saw cake land face down in dirt. Pick up cake, wipe bark and dust off cake, rearrange on plate, deliver to school dining room (with added fibre-y goodness) to be sold for afternoon tea fundraiser. Son #1 plays in orchestra. I cry. Famous local singer’s community choir (made up of parents and ex students from the school) sing. I cry again. At interval buy and eat cake brought by someone else. Delicious. Hope people are buying and eating my cake, but feel guilty that people might be buying and eating my cake. Sulk quietly over dropped cake etc. Son #2 and Son #3 whine that they're bored. Leave after concert. Arrive home. Realise left my car at river. Drive to river, collect my car, drive home. Drop cake plate as exiting car. Plate shatters. Cry. Eat leftover too-hot fish curry and children have tuna and rice because curry even hotter tonight. Bring in laundry. Spend hour folding, sorting, piling, while husband walks dog. Clean kitchen. Read story, skip a page or two, chivvy children into bed. Cruise blogland with assistance of alcohol. Husband watching football/soccer/game with ball on tv. Ooh just brought me cup of tea! Time for bed. All begins again tomorrow. Sigh.

(You asked).


[end of email]

And I didn’t take a single photo.

44 comments:

herhimnbryn said...

Oh my Soup Lady. Life in fast lane, methinks!
Hope you have a relaxing Monday.

tut-tut said...

Well, at least you didn't do all of the above with the doozy of a head cold!

Ex-Shammickite said...

I used to have weekends like that.
Then the kids grew up, found that they had a life, and left home.
Now I long for weekends like that!

Carson said...

I just read it all, through to the bitter (which turned out to be not-so-bitter) end. And privately felt relieved that i only have one sulky dog to contend with.
And yet I can still so relate! isn't that what the blogosphere is for?

Susan said...

I am exhausted merely reading of your weekend. Willing gold your way.

Surfing Free said...

I too sympathise with the lack of gold - I know where it should be but it keeps slipping from my pan.

And football matches ... we have something similar on the ver near horizon only ours is singing and dancing. All indoors and all peopled by a lot of slightly worrying showbiz-type Mums. *sigh* I wish my girls were sporty.

And I would eat your cake even with bark decrations :)

Mz. Minty said...

Suse, I was so happy-sad reading your post. You see, I've secretly envied you ever since I started reading your blog many moons ago, but now I realize that even the life of a blogging goddess isn't always "golden". You may go back to being a goddess now.

Stomper Girl said...

I think your biggest mistake was trying to fit in all that housework to your busy weekend. Save the oven-scrubbing for a quieter 24 hours, why don't you.

I lost track a bit. Was Mr Soup the only member of your family who did not cry this weekend?

shula said...

I like the bit about the cake.

Do you always cry this much?

amy said...

I'm looking forward to being a mum one day but stories like this scare the bejeezus out of me :) Better to be prepared for it though I guess. Hope your week is better.

M said...

After reaching the end of your rollercoaster-of-a-weekend story I feel a sense of relief that the violin made it to the concert and didn't smash to pieces after being left near the wheel of the car. Or something. Phew.

BabelBabe said...

gosh, i adore you. your gold longing made me laugh out loud. if i win the lottery, i will give you half, and emigrate to Australia where we can found our own commune.

i will bet the cake was yummy. bark and all. what's a little roughage here and there?

crafty said...

I'm tired now.

The cake reminds me, I once left one on the roof of the car, it smashed to the ground in front of some workmen.

"It's a cake!" They cried in delight.

And I think I may have cried too.

Lazy cow said...

Agree with Stomper: your mistake was doing housework on the weekend. I too was expecting a violin-related disaster.
Reason #284 why I'm putting off weekend childrens' sport activities for as long as possible !

VictoriaE said...

Your life sounds so peaceful and perfect.

VictoriaE said...

And faux gold taps are wonderful.

bluemountainsmary said...

Yep I too became certain that violin was headed for disaster. The one redeeming feature of your exhausting weekend was that it survived unscathed. Thank god for alcohol.

velcro said...

I too was waiting for the violin to meet an untimely crash, but phew!

Kez said...

ROFLMAO!!

My float said...

Is it really wrong to laugh? Would you be mortally offended?

Kim said...

See photos with that post, maybe even of the crying parts, would have nailed that post. Nailed it.

Kim said...

You know, you built the suspense around that violin so well I was half expecting it to have been stolen/driven over as the day progressed.

Badger said...

Oh dear. Makes me glad to have spent my weekend at home with the Day Two Blues!

Hope your week is better. Fish curry sounds wonderful, but I'm the only one in my house who would touch it.

Dy said...

I confess that I had a big grin on my face the whole time I was reading your post! You are an excellent narrator and I'm glad you have survived your weekend. The fibre enriched cake is very funny

Ex-Shammickite said...

Totally off topic, but do you have a pattern for the cable stitch on the red scarf in the the previous post?
I think my knitting skills might be up to it.... possibly.

Melissa Van Oort said...

Oh, I will shed a tear over bathrooms with you. And how does becoming Mum-at-the-schoolyard-gate sneak up on us so quickly (and end much too quickly as well)? Weren't we just 16? It's scary when decades start sneaking by a quickly as seasons.

Martina said...

Can I go to bed now? You tired me out. All I did was sit at a soccer field all weekend and complain about reffing. I am such and under achiever and you Ms. Pea Soup are a Goddess!

MsCellania said...

I'm so sorry to report that I whooped with laughter about your fundraiser bake sale cake-in-the-dirt. And yours probably wasn't the only treat that had suffered a bit either while cooling and getting surrepticiously sampled by a pet or toddler or a mishap in transport.
We are thinking to add scouting to our monthly masochistic tango.

sueeeus said...

RELIEVED about the violin, and ROFLMAO over the cake tipping! Bloggy ears averted over the swearing. And nobody takes the housecleaning hints. EVER. It was a valiant and nice try, though. Tears and all this dropping of things... Is it just exhaustion or is there perhaps more in the oven than one lets on?

Elizabeth said...

Well, sitting at the river sounds nice. And I assume the cake was not iced.
I decided today was a cooking/baking day and left the house in a state not realising the husband had called a moving company to come to the house to do an inventory. So I had to turn off the stove and walk this rep through the mess. Thank God I had removed the undies from the floor.
See, we ALL have such perfect lives.

Isabelle said...

Oh yes, we've all had weekends like that. But you describe it beautifully!

"Ca' the yowes tae the knowes", eh? My daughter was singing that last night in preparation for a choir audition. It's such a lovely song. Are you basically Scottish, then, I wonder?

luv Abby said...

what an awesome post. Iadore ur blog.
luv Abby

telfair said...

Oh Suse -- I love you so. It doesn't matter what you say, we out here in Blogland will still think the Soup household is the center of all that is good, artistic, elegant, and serene in the Victorian countryside.

campbellgirl said...

I'm sorry, but I haven't laughed so much in a long while! What a glorious story you tell.

Kirti said...

This is what I have in store in some years time...I've taken some notes about cake storage and teenage entertainment for my future reference. Thanks Suse

Terri said...

Oh boy do I know what you're talking about! LOL

Hope Monday was better.
God bless.
Terri

elena jane said...

gosh, and i thought it was crazy at my house....
you make cakes...you rock!!

soccer games...the joys :)

Ash said...

Oh dear. Yours sounds like mine, but with teenagers and sans cake. Diet, you see.

ellen said...

Fantastic weekend! We've all had them at one time or another...sometimes too many times. These are good memory makers and laughter inducers...once we've recovered.

zephyr said...

i assume you are now feeling better
after regurgitating all of that...
:^)
Problem is, i usually just step in it afterwards

fiona said...

you brillant lady !!i'm glad somebody else has weekends like me!!thank god for school on monday morning!!

Caro said...

I like some fiber in my cake. I love that you dusted it off and took it anyway.

Came here via Babelbabe.

The fish curry sounds divine. If you really don't mind sending it along, my e-mail is fedupme@comcast.net. Take your time. :)

fifi said...

I would have eaten the bark-cake.

My weekends are like that except there is no nice bit like violin or goldpanning, just the sport and the housework.

Plus the trombone, till recently, was our instrument...

String Bean said...

I need a nap. Sorry about your cake plate. Knowing your dishes (sort of) I bet it was lovely.

Did anyone eat your cake? That sounds like something I would do. Ten second rule, right?