Worry-free Weekend

The 48 hour Challenge

When I woke up Saturday morning and read the challenge to be worry-free for 48 hours, I thought for sure Martha had gone beyond "crazy." Did she know what she was asking? Didn't she realize the multiplying layers of dust in my house and an uncertain, ongoing, home improvement project was weighing on my mind? How on earth could I manage "worry-free."

But a challenge is just a grown-up word for a dare.

So, like the good sister I am, I took the dare. Challenge. I meant challenge.

After reading a few of my favorite blogs and checking the weather, I set about getting ready for the day. Thankfully donuts magically appeared for breakfast and I didn't have to worry about breakfast. It's OK to splurge once and a while. Besides, I was thinking about other things. I think a lot. Sometimes that's good, but sometimes not. Anyway...the closet project had been underway for two weeks, but it was nearly done. I wanted to help get everything finished-up (and cleaned-up). I made a shopping list and invited the guys to help me shop while the ballerina was at dance class. I didn't worry that they might say "no way." They came with! And I don't think I used any type of Enforcer tone. The girl danced. We shopped. Then we picked her up and went home to unload and eat lunch. I cooked, the kids played, the closet doors were being painted by my towel-destroying spouse.

I rarely watch television. Cartoons don't count. But the movie Mr. Hobbs Takes A Vacation was on. I became entranced. It didn't matter that every article of clothing in this house needed to be washed, some because they had been worn and others because of the encroaching dust that invaded the inside of the dressers. I watched Mr. Hobbs on his vacation and I took a mini one right along with him. I only had to ask the kids about nine times to "please move so mommy can see the TV."

When the movie was over, I felt good. Strange good. I baked a cake. I did the laundry switch while it was baking. The cake came out incredibly...perfect. Cakes don't ever come out perfect. And despite speculation in the nation's capital, none of the Crazy Sisters are the offspring of MacGyver and Martha Stewart. My perfect cake could have aroused renewed speculation though. Really. It looked that good. And yes, it tasted great too!

The closet was nearly done, I continued to launder clothes, I took care of dinner (OK. OK. It was cheese pizza, but it was a meal, and better than the breakfast I let happen). I helped clean-up from the last little bit of closet installation after dinner and by some miracle, the children were in bed by 8 o'clock. Not asleep, but in bed. WOW.

I was in bed for the night before I realized I didn't need any antacid for my stomach. All day, no pain.

Sunday, as usual, went by quick. There was one moment, though, where I thought I was going to go insane. It was after visiting a couple of furniture stores looking at bedframes. Don't ask why we need a new bedframe. But one of the kids was fussing over a straw in a cup of revolting orange-type drink. Normally I would have worried about how long I could take the constant chatter and complaining and random questions from the back seat. Instead, I grabbed the cup and offending straw with a "Give me that before I go Insane." I fixed the straw so it reached the bottom of the up. I gave the cup back. "There."

Peaceful quiet...for thirty-seven seconds. But it was enough.

I didn't get everything crossed off my list for the weekend, but that's nothing new. The closet is finished. There were sweet and funny moments. A serious concern arose Sunday evening, but it felt good to say, "It's a conversation for another day." Although serious, it was not life-threatening. And it can wait. Thank goodness. I had a dare--no, I meant challenge--to see through. The in-laws were not going to trip me up in the last hours. I can worry about them later. And the bedframe. And the rest of the laundry.

I made it 49 hours and 17 minutes.