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Mommy Rehab

It’s finally Friday. Nobody in our household has thrown up since Tuesday. I’d call that a success. After a week full of stomach viruses and sleepless nights, I have started feeling like a very overtired mama. I was thinking last night that I could desperately use a night away to get a solid 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. During several nights this week, between my husband, the baby, and the dog, someone is constantly crying, puking, walking around, or snoring. Regardless of any of this, I am still responsible for getting up taking care of a baby (and the two gems I nanny for), laundry, not to mention trying to sterilize my entire house to clear us of this damn flu.

If I can manage all of this on little to no sleep, imagine what I’d be capable of doing if I could log 12 hours. I bet it would be some seriously impressive shit.

A small part of me actually hoped that I’d come down with the flu just so I could have a good excuse to lie down for a few hours. Then, I remembered that even if I got the flu, I’d still be responsible for all of the same things. My husband was already home from work this week so there’s no way that he’d be able to take any more time off. Apparently, when I accepted the position of Mother, I didn’t realize that sick days, personal time, vacation days, (and salary….) were not included in the contract.

Then, another solution occurred to me. How many times has Lindsay Lohan gone to rehab for exhaustion? And she doesn’t even have children. Come to think of it, has she even worked since Mean Girls? What the hell is this chick so exhausted from? I suppose being constantly drunk and publicly humiliating would be somewhat tiring. Anyways, what does it take to get a ticket to rehab for exhaustion? I think taking care of a vomiting husband and a vomiting baby should definitely qualify me as exhausted. Now don’t get me wrong – I’m not trying to glorify or mock rehab in any way. I am dead serious when I say that every mother could totally use some time away.

My stint in rehab would include the following:

          Spa treatments.


          Reality TV.

          Wine. A lot of wine.

          No access to my cell phone.

          Room service.

          Fitness Classes.

          A large Do Not Disturb sign.

If you had three days to check in at Mommy Rehab, what would your perfection prescription be? A quiet room? Netflix? A good book to read?  We should probably take a lesson from Lindsay Lohan and start getting obnoxiously drunk and irresponsible in public. Maybe then we’d get diagnosed with exhaustion and get a ticket to Malibu for a long weekend away.

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