Well, Monday wasn't the greatest day in the life of me. I had lots of plans to do lots of things around the house, and I did basically NONE of them.
First, I woke up and immediately smelled the pungent, unmistakeable smell of steaming dog shit. I don't know what it is lately, but our dog and one of the cats have been having numerous accidents around the house. (More upsetting is the cat peeing outside of her box, because hello, have you smelled that stuff? You can not get rid of it!) So I jumped up, got the kids up for their first day back to school from Winter Break, and cleaned up multiple piles of pooch poop.
Then, it was time to head to the bus, and suddenly the kids are moving in slow-motion. We finally head to the bus stop, me practically pulling the younger girl down the street by her hand, and I look up to see the bus already at the stop with parents walking away, toward us. Aack! I did not feel like driving to school, so I started yelling and waving and running. You've read it here before, but there are only two times in my life when I run: if I'm being chased, and if I'm about to miss a bus. And so we ran. Of course, about eight cars are stopped on both sides of the bus, waiting for MY children to board, and I'm feeling quite conspicuous. And then, when my kids are seated on the bus, OTHER kids start coming out of the woodwork. Apparently, the bus driver arrived to the stop early, and NO one was there. What a relief for me not to be the only ones late. Now 16 angry drivers have someone else on whom to focus.
And on the way back home, I was thinking to myself, "Y'know, running didn't feel half bad. Maybe I'll take up running." Bahahaha. You know that ain't gonna happen.
I had planned to spend the whole day checking things off my big to-do list, but I was feeling very lazy and tired and unmotivated. So I started off on the computer instead, checking email and Facebook, harvesting crops on Farmville... you know, important stuff. And I could NOT stop yawning.
By 0900, I knew I was going to have to take a nap. And so I lay down, telling myself I would pop awake at noon - absolutely no later - and get to work. I wanted to put dinner in the crockpot, do some power knitting, get the boxes cleaned out of the office, and so much more. Instead, it was after 1400 before I opened my eyes - and I'd slept a solid night's sleep the night before! Holy hell, I slept the entire school day. What a waste.
Instead of berating myself, however, I decided to get something to eat, check email again, and waste the rest of the time until the bus came. No point working for an hour and then having to stop, right? Yeah, it didn't sound any less lame when I told it to myself earlier, either.
I tell myself that this never-ending cold that Rob and I are having (seriously, it's been three weeks, what the heck) has me completely worn down and burnt out, and I deserve to have a day off. Maybe that's true, because I had absolutely zero energy even after that long nap.
And when the kids came home, and I gave them a snack of the lemon bars I baked last night for just this moment, all I wanted to do was lie down and go back to sleep. Chloë and Jack went upstairs to do I know not what, while Sophie sat on my lap and chatted away with me. I tried convincing her that she needed a nap, when really it was me. Another nap, after all those hours!
We lay on the couch, snuggled up close together, while she gave me her full array of complaints about having to take a nap. "I'm not tired." "I have to pee." "I'm hungry." "I'm cold." "I'm hot." "I want to play a game on your iPhone." And so on. (The kids are constantly playing with my iPhone - they love it more than I do, I swear! It has been added to the list of things they need to pay for with Dad Dollars.) No matter. I held her ever-warm, soft little body close to me, kissed her sweet cheek umpteen million times, and eeked my warm fuzzies out of her wide-awake self.
After an hour, it became extremely apparent that she was NOT going to go to sleep. Meanwhile, Jack had come back downstairs and thrown himself on the other couch for a nap. He was deep in slumber. Sophie and I went upstairs so I could finally take a shower, and there was Chloë, sound asleep on the floor of the hallway, mere feet from her bed. Weirdo. I tossed Sophia on the bed, gave her the iPhone and told her not to call China, before stepping into the hottest-hot shower. It's all hot all the time for me, now. I can never get warm anymore. We are having one big cold snap, and I hate it. I absolutely hate being cold. It makes me cranky - no, downright angry. I crave the warmth.
I had hoped that Sophie would fall asleep during my shower, under the warm covers on my bed, but no such luck. So she chattered away while I folded four loads of laundry, which took an ordinately long amount of time, since I was in such a slow-moving state. Chloë woke up and came in, cheerfully, so I set her to work carrying clothes into the kids' rooms to put in the closet. They were already on hangers; all she had to do was hang them up. So imagine my dismay when Rob came home and up the stairs to find all those clothes on the floor of the hallway, which was decidedly not clean! I was furious. Absolutely furious. We discussed. Loudly at times.
So when I gave her more clothes to hang up and then, on a hunch, went in to check that she had actually hung them up and found them on the floor of her room, well, I was beside myself. Literally, I think there were two of me, both stomping their feet, waving arms around and shouting. It wasn't our best Mother-Daughter moment.
Eventually, after some tears and lots more discussion about responsibility and trust, we went back into my room. I continued to fold laundry, Chloë worked on her homework, and Sophia sat with her pile of books that the preschool sent home for the week. Every so often, I would stop and read one of the books to her. Chloë, on the other side of the room, would interject with a question every now and then, when she was "supposed" to not be listening and doing her homework instead. I felt guilty for disrupting her on the one hand, but on the other, I was glad she was listening to our story time.
Rob had taken Jack to his Cub Scout meeting. In the Tiger Den tonight, the boys were given their pinewood derby cars to build. Jack wanted to go home and make his RIGHT NOW, as Rob texted me from the meeting. He's super excited about it. Rob still has his cars from his own time in the Scouts, and Jack is anxious for his father to get them out of the attic and show them off. I love that they now have this together. I didn't mind taking him to the meetings - dragging the girls along - when Rob was working nights, but I'm so glad now it's back to a Father-and-Son thing to do. Now if only I didn't have to drag the Littles along to Chloë's Brownies meetings!
When they came home, and I finished folding all the laundry that was dry, I looked up at the clock and realized it was already 2030. I hadn't made any dinner yet, and I'd told Rob the night before that if he made dinner that night, I would make it all the rest of the week. Shee-it! I was suddenly grateful for those 8 cans of Progresso chicken noodle soup that I'd gotten for super-cheap from Walgreens the day before, because that was going to be dinner! I can't eat soup anymore, since gastric bypass patients can't have liquids and solids at the same time, but I had some scallops in the fridge.
I ended up making THREE cans of soup for those four small people for dinner, which is pretty amazing for my crew. They actually loved it and kept thanking me for making it, which made me supremely happy. All four of them happily slurped their soup, and all four of them asked for seconds. Thirds, in some cases. Such a simple little meal to bring such big pleasures to all of us. And my scallops were pretty damn good, too.
They had lemon bars for dessert, and Jack fussed that he wasn't allowed to have ice cream instead. He wants ice cream every night! We have a lot in the freezer from stocking up during sales, and now I'm thinking I should have just let him have it. He needs the calories, after all. But we stood firm on the "this is what we're having tonight, take it or leave it" thing, and he left it. Ah, well.
The kids were readied for bed after that, but I still heard noises up there for quite some time afterward. Hopefully not from Sophia, who I know really did need that nap she didn't take earlier. By 2230, I was done with this dumb day. For someone who didn't accomplish much, I sure can type out a lot about it, can't I?!
I went to bed (well, couch) then and tried to sleep, but I forgot to turn off the TV, and it kept waking me up. But 0030, I was wide awake. And here I am. Trying to decide whether to take a sleeping pill to get more sleep, or watch some Martha Stewart on the DVR and do some of that afore-mentioned power knitting I never did in the daytime. Either way, tomorrow is going to suck, too. I think I better do the knitting. If I take the pill, I'll never hear my alarm for school.
So guess who will be taking a nap tomorrow?
Fin.
P.S. Jack just came down, sobbing to his father that his leg hurts. Since he hasn't had his growth hormone shots in a very long time (a fact I am soon going to remedy, with an appointment on the books for him), I can't think what the cause might be. Poor kiddo.
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