I do love the idea of a day of rest. A day of reflection. A day of doing absofreakinglutely nothing unless you want to. Good grief, even God took a day off. So my plan today was to enjoy a day of rest with the boys.
Notice I said plan.
Instead I took down all the Christmas decorations, wrestled the tree into its storage bag, and manhandled that sucker to the top shelf in the garage. Thank God A was there to help me. He’s getting to be such a help as he gets older. Reward for not leaving him at the airport, I suppose.
But I digress.
I fought with A about homework.
I organized the storage room. No, I will not come organize yours. Get thee to Target and stock up on big Sterilite boxes. Toss 2/3 of your crap and put the rest in the boxes. Ta-DA! That’s how Jen organizes her crap! Next up, A’s room and my scrapbook room! I’m not making this up! The rest of the house quakes in fear! It knows its number is coming up!
I puttered around, putting things away and getting ready for the week.
(Oh, thank you, Gods of every shape and color, school starts tomorrow. Three weeks has nearly done me in.)
I tried to make banana bread, only to find a distinct lack of butter in the house. Yes, I could have used something else, but when you’re still learning to cook gluten-free, you cling to the recipe like a drowning man to a life preserver. Ooh, simile!
I answered emails, I planned my week, I made lists. I kept the boys alive. I read the paper, I cleaned the house (ok, vacuumed up the tree bits).
BIG DIGRESSION HERE
Once upon a time I had dreams, aspirations, hopes for the future. Now I’d be happy with a canister vacuum that picks up dog hair. Yes, a canister vacuum. I have stairs and they need vacuuming too and the last time I dragged the behemoth up the stairs I burned the carpet. Soon we’ll rip out this pathetic crap the builder called carpet and put down hard floor, so I need a vacuum that handles both well. Send me your favorite suckers (heh) and I’ll name the new vacuum after you (NO! I do NOT want a $3000 vacuum, thanks for asking). The P.O.S. I use as a vacuum right now is miserable and Rosie the Bagel Dog sheds as a hobby. Please help, I’m drowning here.
RETURNING TO PREVIOUS WHATEVER-THE-HELL-IT-WAS-I-WAS-RANTING-ABOUT
I did all sorts of stuff. What I did not do:
- write posts for the week
- any work for my business
- play on the Wii (J was on it all day and as I was fighting with A over his homework, I wasn’t going to start another fight)
- anything else on my unholy to-do list
- hang out with the boys and do nothing
Why do I do this to myself?
Ooh, you know how sometimes you hear a piece of music and it transports you back to a time when you heard it all.the.time? Yeah, a classical piece just came on that took me back to living in Iowa (it was used as the classical station’s “call music.”). I’m having very uncomfortable flashbacks. I did not like living in Iowa. At.All. It was great being newly married and all, but living there was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad culture shock.
So tomorrow begins the routine again. Thank.God. The last several weeks have been rough. It’s either been “AGH! We’re leaving soon and XYZ for the holidays hasn’t been done yet!” or “AGH! They’re still on winter break?” Tuesday, when J goes back to preschool, will be even better. I adore my kids, but I’m a much better mommy when we’re not hanging on each other every day for three weeks.
Note to self: start searching out summer camps!
And now I’m listening to a string quartet version of Peter Gabriel’s Shock the Monkey. I wish I was making that up, I wish it was just the wine, but alas, there really is such a thing. This is why musicians drink. Sigh.
Don’t forget the “Only in Iowa” contest! Only a few more days!