Weekday. Repeat as necessary.

When Kat and I welcomed the new year, we certainly hoped for a bit of respite from what really was a tough 2011.  I am relieved to report that things are getting a little easier.  Drew and Alex are well established back at their respective schools, though the typical 5 day school week seems only to last a week at a time, interrupted by MLK day, teacher inservice training or a good sale at Penny’s.  Just about every week seems to have the kids home on a Monday or Friday.

I am a little surprised at how much I crave the silence that descends upon our home when the kids and Kat are gone.  I finally get to tackle the multitude of tasks big and small that are pretty damn hard to do when everyone’s at home.  Make no mistake, I love having the house full of everybody, but try sweeping and mopping the entire first floor with Alex running around.  It’s impossible.

It’s a struggle sometimes just prioritizing the tasks.  Cleaning the floors and bathrooms tends to be #1 and #2 followed closely by plump, soggy piles of dirty clothes patiently waiting to be stuffed into the washing machine.  Then comes everything else…taking out trash, shopping for groceries, filling prescriptions, returning books to the library–all very mundane.  And if there’s no snow on the ground there’s probably something I could be doing outside.  The grass doesn’t mow itself.

With the 5 minutes left over I’ll jump into the shower.  Sometimes I don’t get that.  Thank god for deodorant.

And then suddenly it’s time to pick up Drew or take Alex to his occupational therapy session.  Then it’s dinnertime.  By now everybody’s in a predictable groove–assuming there’s edible food somewhere that all of us will eat.  Either Kat or I prepare it and (if all planets are in perfect alignment) we will all sit together at our kitchen table and sup.  Like clockwork, one of us will gasp “Everyone’s eating at the same time!”  I’ll smile and nod, relieved that this physiological need has been met for the time being.

Afterward, Alex wants a bath or shower.  (I do, too, but I won’t get it.)  Drew takes one every other day, usually with Alex.  Again, Kat and I take turns giving baths or cleaning up in the kitchen.  Soon, fuzzy jammies donned and teeth brushed, the kids start winding down.  By 7:30 pm, Alex is pretty much in bed.  Books read or games played, Drew follows an hour later.

It is this time between 7:30 and 8:30 that our sofa turns into quicksand for me.  Until now I’ve been a little perpetual motion machine, sort of like how a hummingbird flits from flower to flower in an endless quest for fuel.  Me, I feel like I’m holding back the ocean with a broom.  I’ll fall to sleep right then and there.

Only to be awoken 15 or 20 minutes later to realize that Drew’s already in bed.  Normally I love tucking him in for the night because at the age of 6, he still lets us.  But sometimes I’m V.I.P. #1 in the Land of Nod.  And it’s only 8:30pm.  Kat usually nudges me off the sofa with a gentle, insistent “come to bed”.  I stagger towards the bedroom.  Then I realize that not appreciably smaller list of tasks I must accomplish remains, even after the day’s flurry of activity.  Again, the ocean rushes past my broom.

Which leads me to a discussion of stress.  I’ll add that to the list.