Yesterday was to be my new beginning. I would rise from the ashes of my former mediocrity, splendid and clean, and be a perfect person.
I had a perfect schedule, and it looked precisely like this:
Nurse babies, start making baby food, start soaking beans
Spend 1+ hours in the garden
Make breakfast, clean up after breakfast
Do 2+ loads of laundry, meanwhile clean ferret cage and cat box
Make lunch, clean up after lunch, nurse babies, start ice cream
Finish bar mitzvah dress, start next occasion dress
Spend 1+ hour in garden
Make dinner, clean up after dinner
Bathe babies, shower
Nurse babies and put them to bed
Do homework
Eat dessert/clean up after dessert
Brush teeth
Go to sleep
Good day, right?
I am learning something about the best laid plans of mice... Life is more complicated every year. I woke up with my glands so swollen I could hardly turn my neck, so of course I nixed the first part of my morning to get a little more sleep.
I managed to make all three meals, and clean up after two of them. I got the laundry done. And that is all.
In the middle of the afternoon, some friends stopped by unexpectedly, and we spent the evening entertaining.
And that was my day. No shower, no baby baths, no time in the garden, homework undone, dresses unfinished and unstarted, and a sink full of dirty dishes at the end of the day.
Today I'm feeling a lot better, still achy and swollen glanded (if that's a word), but I feel that I'm capable of a lot more in the stuff-accomplishing department.
So today I'm still resting so as not to get actually sick. And tomorrow I have class, so I won't be attempting my grand day of living up to my expectations then either. Not to mention that it's my birthday, and who the hell wants to spend their birthday WORKING AS HARD AS THEY CAN?
Maybe Wednesday will be better. Maybe Wednesday I can finally do everything. Perfectly. And look beautiful doing it.
...thus continues the vicious cycle of my self abuse. And now, off to remove the feces from my daughter's rear.
Relax!
ReplyDeleteI've started classes and such now that my baby is five, but the first year was nothing but feeding him and taking him on walks outside.
Do what's most important, and be proud of yourself and your babies.