Thursday, January 26, 2012

Substituting An Oxygen Mask for a Paper Bag

So, a few weeks ago, through a string of posts that would be exhausting to detail, I found this post.  It got me thinking - not a deep, thoughtful contemplative session, mind you, as I'm pretty sure that part of my brain has put up a Do Not Disturb sign in a frantic attempt to defend itself against against the barrage of autism coming its way.  Nope, I read the post, went "Hmm.  Well, that was nicely put." and went on about my day.

It stayed with me, though.  It was around the time that I noticed I had apparently only shaved one leg that morning (and shortly after nearly getting into a shouting match with an insurance company employee), that I thought it might be worth a closer read.  After said read, I decided that it's time.  Time to trade my paper bag for an oxygen mask.

With the excuse of birthday money to spend, I am getting together with my closest friend for a girls' day out this weekend.  Well, it's intended to be a girls' day out, but since neither of us is entirely sure what a girls' day out looks like anymore, it may end up being a girls' lunch, followed by bewildered girls' wandering around the mall. Bewildered, because we will not be there to shop for children's clothes or toys.  In fact, shopping for anyone other than us is going to be forbidden.  Never one to pass up an opportunity to make a list, I have also compiled the following:

- We will bring at least $50 in "blow" money.  The legal kind.*

-We will not feel guilty for spending said money.  No talk of savings, tuition or home improvement projects.  For that day, we will be 16 years old again, with nothing better to spend our allowance on than frivolous things that make us feel good.

- We will do at least one thing that we will laugh about later, and probably be too embarrassed to tell anyone else about.  I don't know what it's going to be yet, but I'm sure an opportunity will present itself.

- There will be no talk of stressors.  No autism, no kids-not-listening, no I-can't-get-to-the-housework, no insurance woes, no work.  I'm not sure what that leaves, but we're going to come up with something or die trying.

- Cell phones = off.  I'm not sure yet which one of us is going to go into withdrawals first, but as an emergency plan, I am building in two minutes into every hour for EMERGENCY PHONE CHECKAGE ONLY.  This one may have to be put into writing.  And signed in blood.

The most important goal of this girls' day out is to let ourselves do something for ourselves without feeling guilty about it.  We will remember the times our husbands took time out to play video games, or wander around a hardware store for no good reason, or buy a game/shoes (yes, shoes)/man-toy without stopping to analyze the effect on The Family Budget.  And we will stop and realize that maybe this is one of the reasons they aren't stressed to the breaking point 23 hours out of every day.

Because when things happen, our families deserve us at our fully oxygenated, calm-and-with-an-emergency-plan best.  If it takes a spa pedicure to get there, so be it.

I'm going to get my Zen on, dammit.

*To anyone this may not make sense to, I am not, in fact, a drug addict.  Just to clarify.


  1. This is awesome! I wish you the best time this weekend. Love it :)

  2. Love this! Really chuckled at the end where you clarify you're not an addict. Feels odd to say/do all this stuff & realize just how foreign it is! :) (Got to your blog via Kristin Macchi's Twitter post) Have a great time!!

  3. Thanks! I had the same thought...girl time was so much easier when we were kids. And I was better at it. :)

  4. Love this post! So Funny and awesome. Can't wait to hear about your day!

    1. Thanks! Be prepared for it to be boring, lol. I'm not nearly as interesting as I sound in print.