This Is A Monday For A Housewife…

The weekend is over. It is over already. It felt like a blur. Especially considering my husband got back at almost midnight on Saturday after being gone for a week. We only had yesterday together as a family unit. It was wonderful. We didn’t get to sleep in, but we did get a big breakfast together. Daddy and Jerry got time together out in town. They saw fishies at the store. They went to the park and enjoyed the sunshine. Mommy and Clara enjoyed some peace and quiet (mommy more than Clara, but whatever).

The weekend is over.

It was back to the grind all to soon. I never considered the fact that when I became a stay at home mom, the time frame that my friends who work face each week would still in some ways apply to me. The rhythms of the beginning, middle and end of a 5 day “work” week still apply. I never realized this until today. I still have things that I set out to accomplish each day. I still have priorities. I still am busy. There is a schedule to comply with. And I still have the “bosses” to keep happy with my work performance.

It’s Monday. Sometimes with all of it’s hopes and dreams for the week ahead. Sometimes, not so much. Sometimes, it’s coffee needed to jumpstart your day. It’s a pause, a breath in and realizing that it all isn’t that bad and being thankful that I can be home with my children when there are mom’s that I know would prefer to be but can’t. It isn’t perfect all of the time, but it’s mine. They’re mine. It’s more than sufficient. It’s less than ideal (only sometimes). It’s mommy-hood.

It’s waking up with kiddos who are squirming within minutes of getting out of bed. It’s a tantrum before 9 a.m. and putting your little one in time out before breakfast is even dreamed of being served. It’s finding the time for yourself to finally sit down and eat my breakfast. And deciding a bowl of Cocoa Puffs will suffice (and they’re delicious with french vanilla coffee). It’s rushing around to get two kiddos ready to leave the house so that I can go to the gym and ending up delaying our departure because my youngest needs a nap. It’s lucking out that I have a fabulous mother in law who will watch my two year old so I only have to take one kiddo with me. It’s being able to grab a prescription for my friend while I’m in town while being thankful my 9 month old is OK to wait for just a few minutes. It’s remembering to grab a bag of peanut butter M&M’s before I leave so that I can make said friend smile.

It’s high five-ing my two year old when he finishes his whole lunch, and being able to make his day with not just one but TWO (gasp) Oreo’s. It’s being thankful that my two babies nap at the same time so that I can have 2 hours of time to myself. It’s filling those two hours with all of the other things that I need to get done. It’s the big basket of laundry I fold while watching an old movie on the sofa. It’s Teddy Grahams and bologna and cheese for lunch. It’s getting to make and eat a quick and early dinner with my husband. But it’s also him leaving to go to class until 10 p.m. It’s soaking up the last few minutes of the day with my little ones outside in the evening.

It’s arguing with my two year old to make him eat his dinner. It’s bath time with them both in the tub while one is splashing water on the floor, the other pooping in the bath water. It’s getting one out unscathed (clean) while bathing the other one all over again. It’s listening to my 9 month old fuss and cry while trying to change her diaper and swaddle her. It’s begging my 2 year old to lay still while I dress him for bed. And it’s repeating myself 6 times before he actually listens and does so.

Its a phone call from my husband to say that he is coming home early. And it’s a phone call from my husband cut short because my 2 year old just squished his hand in the bathroom door. It’s the insistence by him to be held afterwards and the warranting of plenty of hugs and kisses. It is soaking up those hugs and kisses and relishing each moment that they declare that they need you  and only you when they’re hurting. It is making sure to pick out the purple dinosaur vitamin so that they smile. It’s walking by my kitchen on our way up the stairs and seeing the mess that needs to be cleaned when I come back down. It’s the exhaustion I feel carrying my 35 pound little one up the stairs and finally compromising on (only) reading three different books.

It’s finishing the stories and starting a tickle fight that ends with me putting my  last little one standing into bed. Praying for him, loving on him. It’s the silence over the monitors, the welcome silence. It’s a good silence. The house is not left untouched by all that they have done today. It’s messy here and there. Water on the floor in the bathroom. Daffodils on the kitchen counter from being outside earlier. Toys under the sofa.

It’s a Monday. With potential not much unlike any other day today. Sometimes, I don’t notice what day it is, or even the time for that matter. It is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Today, I did. I’m ready for Friday evening and waking up with my husband on Saturday morning. I’m ready for lounging and catching a movie while snuggling on the sofa. I’m ready for family trips to the park, lunch out in town. Tonight, I’m ready for a break. But it’s OK. My son picked me a flower and my little girl smiled at me non-stop almost all day. My husband is back home to me. And I’m ignoring the mess in my kitchen (and everywhere else).

Such a good big brother.I’m paid in full.

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