Monday is the new Sunday

Before reading this post I want to make sure every single one of you out there is part of a good mommy group, because if you aren't, you really, really do not know what you are missing. It is imperative that we not do this alone, that we bond through our shared weakness of being clueless mommies, and that we share a cocktail (even if you don't drink) every once in awhile! If you are not currently in a mommy group and aspire to good mommydom and extended marriage, by the time you finish reading this post I hope you will be convinced that it is your birthright to be in one or start your own up.

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Although the weekend is my husband's time to play dead in bed and on the couch, it has become my doubled up chore time. Because his presence is at least here -no matter how inert -  I feel it necessary to take advantage of his semi-able-bodied babysitting skills (read: letting the kids crawl all over him in bed or on the couch) by tackling the overflowing laundry basket and at least taking a stab at some of the unmentionables like toilet bowl scrubbing and kitchen floor mopping. I oftentimes find myself working even harder on the weekends than on the weekdays. 

That is why today, Monday afternoon at approximately 1:02 pm, I drank a margarita on the rocks with salt. I don't even drink really. But damn does a two-sip buzz do a mama good. Especially on Monday afternoon with the girls. 

Let me set the scene: We were 15 all together in a reserved room far away from the main dining room of a local cheap n' cheerful Mexican restaurant. Half mommies, half toddlers who had all just spent the last hour jumping and running in an open gym. Needless to say, our wing was insane. We had the wait staff shell shocked, working off their last lard-laden lunch by hauling the essentials they would have known to bring in the first place had they ever fallen prey to such a demanding ticket: high chairs, napkins, plastic spoons, little plates, another high chair, more napkins, waters, straws,  sides of beans, sides of rice, sides of guacamole, extra tortillas, and more napkins. 

It was total chaos, but do-able chaos. Worthwhile chaos. All the invaluable woman-bonding stuff transpired amidst the cacophony of whining, misbehaving children: 

Constant Commiserating  ~ "I can't get my kid to eat either"

Intuitive Helping ~ "Here, can I take your baby off your hands so you can eat in peace?"

Necessary Networking  ~ "I'm doing a mommy spa nite girls, wanna come?" 

Important Informing  ~ "Yes, Confessions of a Shopaholic was stupid but cute"

Mindless Gossiping  ~ "Did you see Kate Winslet's look at the Oscars last night?"

Shopping Secret Sharing ~ "Check out the bargain room in the back of Anthropologie, cool clothes you can almost afford" 

And the priceless and unspoken most important thing: 

Being together in the company and comfort of our fellow mommies on the journey, traveling the tricky path of motherhood in tandem. 

It really helps to burn off the burnout.

Just as I was sucking that tiny cocktail straw for the last bit of savored abandon, I heard one of us proclaim from down the table, "I wanna do this every Monday!" Me too man! We're so worth it. Laughing mommies are happy mommies, and happy mommies have happy kiddies and even happier husbands. And happy kiddies might, just might,  cooperate with their mommy's well-deserved-Sunday-come-Monday belated breather with the ladies.