When Tuesday is a Monday

I finally got up out of bed when I woke up this morning.  I could have tenderly rolled over and acted as the small spoon with my husband, but instead, I wrapped myself up in a Snuggie and sat criss cross apple sauce on the shag carpet of my living room.  I focused on breathing for about 5 minutes while the list formulated in my head.

Cancel meeting, check.  I am late for those emails.  Breathe.  How many orders came through over this weekend?  Should I remind our customers there are only three days left to save 10%?  I wonder if this or that company will sponsor the Showcase.  Breathe.  Man, this floor is covered in toys.  We have got to make sure he cleans up at least one mess before going to school today.

I know I have tortellini to make this morning.  I’ve got a lunch to pack and a kid to potty train.  I wonder how full time working moms do it.  Just like every other mom who does not have a cleaning person or an au pair, I work over full-time on most days.  But when every room is a mess the day after Labor Day, and you haven’t mopped your kitchen floor in, (gosh, has it been months?), it’s hard to tell what the priority is.

I think I’ll hop on Pinterest for some answers.  Oh, and make another list.

What I really need to remember is this quote I keep seeing: “Live the life you love.”  I have the choice to be stressed or to handle the “list” with gratitude and grace.  If I want to show the world and be that lady who is always frantic, always pushing for the next five minutes to be over, I will waste my time away in a head space that only I can see, that I have created, and that doesn’t exist.  I don’t want to be her.

I want to be the package.  The do-it-all supermom who can throw a wild birthday party, with food that’s a hit, games that are right on target and have honest conversations with every single guest there, all while keeping my toddler the picture of a perfect child.  That’s a joke.

What I want is to be satisfied with the life I have and grateful for the day I have been given.  We are healthy.  We have a home and we eat good food.  Sure, I could be a better cook.  And some days I am.  Let’s just disregard sloppy joes and frozen vegetables and focus on a fruit and nut concoction tossed over the fresh lettuce from our garden. From the garden that I dug up, that I covered in manure, that I planted, watered, weeded and can now harvest.  Let’s focus on the beautiful, though short, life of the herbs we grew on our window sill and how nonchalantly I tossed those herbs into food before they succumbed to their short life’s destiny.

Let’s focus on the opportunity to live life with lots of love.  To hold my son for 10 minutes after he wakes up, in the dark of his room, while we whisper sweet nothings about the weekend behind us and the day before us.  Let’s focus on the clouds interspersed in the mountains around me and the cool, brisk breeze I will feel on my face if, no…when, I get out the door in time to walk him to school.

I laid around for about 30 minutes on Labor Day.  On a couch.  It was awesome.  And now I am ready for the week to begin.  I am ready to work hard and experience success.  I can do it.  And I will.

But right now, I gotta make tortellini.

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