About a week ago my husband made, possibly the biggest regret of our married life. He jokingly asked me, “Do you know how to multitask?” I forget what I was doing when he (he claims jokingly) asked me that, but a billion images/scenarios popped in my head, and till now I have yet to let him live that down.
As if cooking a second dish because your 3-year-old won’t eat the first dish your making (even though she ate the first dish two weeks ago) isn’t multitasking. As if using your foot to rock the bouncer that holds your 2-month-old and rubbing your toddlers back during nap time isn’t multitasking. As if pretty much anything (from brushing your toddler’s teeth, eating lunch, reading an email, and changing your toddlers’ diaper) WHILE breastfeeding isn’t multitasking. Now 99% of everything I do, I glance at him and give him the smirk of death.
Because I (perhaps never) can’t get over the fact that he said that, we’ve made a deal. One day in the not so distant future, he has to take off of work when I’m working and be Mr. Mom for the day. And no, not for an hour or two while I run to the grocery, an appointment, or a couple of errands. I mean for 9 hours, from beginning to end, with the two girls with absolutely ZERO help.
I can’t wait.