My eyes open to the sound of her voice. I can hear her softly talking to herself through the monitor as she rolls around in her crib. I watch her just laying there putting her foot in and pulling it out of the slats in her crib. Her own funny game.
The week has been completely exhausting. The work has been piled on and on and on. That’s a good thing. Job security isn’t something to complain about. But it’s a lot. Trying to keep up has been like trying to fight a fire with a water bottle. It’s not going to work. Prioritize and list-make. That’s been my coping mechanism. At least there was more progress yesterday and now it’s not as bad. But it still pretty much is.
The weekends usually take me a while to get going. Saturday is always so much. Dance lessons. Swim lesson. Nap. Errands. Cleaning. Washing. Not stopping. By the time I know it the day is done and we’re already staring Sunday in the face which pretty much means the weekend is over. Like Jon Acuff says, you become a “Sunday Jerk.” Ok, I don’t feel that but I do hate that I just get in the groove of slowing down and unwinding and it’s time to start all over again. Luckily I don’t dread going to work. That’s a miserable feeling.
I actually have a really good outlook about being back at the office because I have lists and ideas and goals for how I’m going to get that massive to-do list accomplished and be a rock star. I look forward to sitting at my desk, being back with “my people” and tackling projects so I can cross things off my massive white board. I sit eating my oatmeal and sipping my coffee while checking emails. It’s peaceful. It’s quiet. It’s my little space. Yeah…until that glitter fades a few hours in and the overwhelmed feeling comes back because I realize that I can’t actually accomplish a week’s worth of work in one morning.
I’m the world’s worst relaxer. But I try. I took a nap with Allie, my weekend guilty pleasure. It’s always hard to get to sleep as I try to shut my brain off but then it’s almost like it was effortless when I wake up and it’s over quicker than it began. I’m never sure if I feel better, but I don’t care. I sleep next to her and breathe her in, eyes shut under the cool sheets. It’s better than being outside when it’s 95 degrees.
Dinner’s in the oven. I had time this morning because Ava was off at swim lessons and then she was rushed off to a birthday party. I was on Allie duty, I totally won that one since she napped for half of it. Ribs were marinated and put in the oven to cook slowly, beans put in the pot, and dinner awaits us in a couple of hours.
What do you do on Saturdays? What do you do on Sunday? Surely people don’t run around so busy all the time. Right? But if you don’t, how do you get things done? Oh well. This is what I know and unless I move to a house on the beach, I don’t think my weekends are going to change much.
Three day weekends are the best. I get to do all my busy work but then I get to enjoy the next 2 days. Seriously. Why aren’t three day weekends mandatory?