I think you should know that I’m really, really good at starting blog posts. Like, you would be amazed at the quality of writing I can pour into three opening paragraphs on any given subject. Especially Donald Trump.
I’m about 15% tempted to start publishing blog posts akin to those group story-telling games we used to play at sleepovers. I’ll write the first three paragraphs, then another blogger can take the next three, and so on and so forth until we have some wacky, meandering, hilarious tale like nothing any of us could have created on our own.
This happened over the weekend:
That’s right folks – stare at it while you can! All of my dishes were clean at the same time. I washed the dirty dishes, cleaned the counters, bleached the sink, and then went to bed. Which means: I woke up to a clean kitchen. Just amazing.
This girl. She’s now four months old. I can hardly describe how smitten with her we are.
Oops – I didn’t post anything on the blog last week. See number 1.
Nearly six years into this stay-at-home-mom thing, I somehow still struggle with how relentless the work is. I spent this entire weekend waiting for a couple of hours to myself (To organize papers and clothing! Not even to do fun stuff!) and when those hours never appeared, I found myself on the brink of tears. Not because anything was really wrong, not because the weekend had really been bad, not because I was overly tired – just because my days all look the same.
Monday through Friday, I’m in charge of four small children for something like 14 hours a day, I take care of all the cooking and dishes and laundry and cleaning and familial logistics, and I’m at the whim of ever-interrupting hands and mouths and diapers. Call me crazy, but I’d like the weekends to look a little different.
Sometimes they do, but lots of times my husband (who really is a very involved father) works on (necessary! good!) home stuff, so isn’t available to help with much other than breakfast. One part of me gets that. The other part stands at the end of a Sunday night and looks toward Monday morning with something like desperation. Because this work is constant. It is never-ending. And I still haven’t gotten used to that.
We had some storms Sunday evening and when they cleared, the sky was breathtaking. Though it wasn’t quite amazing enough to knock me out of the aforementioned funk, it sure did remind me that funks are temporary. Thank goodness for beautiful skies.
Thank goodness for breezes and low-humidity days too. We haven’t yet turned on the air conditioner, so lately I’ve felt like we lived in a jungle or a swamp, or on cooler days, England or Ireland. But today! Today is gorgeously clear, dry, and breezy. It’s just glorious. Hopefully this bodes well for the week!
7 thoughts on “Always Starting, Never Ending: Monday Morning Miscellany (Vol. 11)”
I would love to be part of a round-robin blog post! How would we do it?
another good one, julie xxo
Just like we all feel at some stage. A wise friend of 8 children told me “holidays aren’t really holidays with young children… you just change location!”
I can completely relate to some weekends looking like week days. And you are so right about needing a few hours not even for fun stuff. I find myself using the time to grocery shop, put away laundry and general house cleaning. These days I really only find myself relaxing when the hair dresser blow dries my hair. Sigh! This too shall pass (too quickly as all the seasoned moms remind us all too often ;-)). Sigh!
I used to go through a Sunday afternoon depression, when staring at the things I wanted to get done over the weekend that didn’t get done collided with the start of a new week when I knew ANYTHING I wanted to get done wouldn’t get done. It’s tough to never have a respite from that panic.
Your baby girl is so cute that she can’t possibly be real.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself. 🙂