- - - - -
- - -
Current topic:
We'd love to include your perspective! Send submissions on any topic to fourperspectivesblog at gmail.com.

Next topic:


Monday, February 15, 2010

Monday Minefield

Pin It It's Monday, for sure.

I heard my husband going about his ablutions quietly this morning, careful to keep the bathroom door closed to shield the light from falling on my face and waking me too early. He leaves the house by six a.m., so he's thoughtful that way. For the past several weeks, though, I've grown accustomed to his softly murmured "school's closed today," as he leaves, absolving me from the responsibility of rising and starting my day.

There was no murmur today.

Regardless of the fact that snow has blanketed the ground since December 18th and the kids have not had a full week of school since returning after Christmas break, I felt the loss of that murmur keenly.

I couldn't sleep past 6:30, and rose, pacing in to the bathroom to peer out of the window at the leaden sky. Nothing appeared to be falling, but maybe it was a trick of the eyes. I pulled on my flannel pants and a sweater and went in to the den, where I could the driveway. Nothing. "Dang," I whispered, startling Izzy into a sharp bark. I let her out to do her morning business, and settled myself at the computer for a quick search of school delays. Surely it would be delayed...

No. Every other county was delayed, it seemed, since last night's forecast had called for morning and afternoon snow. Apparently, though, the forecast had shifted to mere rain this afternoon, and our superintendent had actually got it right. With a sigh, I let the dog in, and went to wake the kids.

Showering, I mentally revised my day. I would need to do my writing in the morning, and knock that out. Go to the store, get stuff for Bible study tomorrow, because after three weeks that would for sure be on. Then I would need to spend the afternoon catching up on laundry and cleaning I hadn't been around to do this past weekend. It would be a tight day.

I was ready roughly ten minutes before time to get the kids off to school and remembered to grab Lawson's signed report card from my desk as I was hustling them through breakfast. It had been so long (a month?) since they'd had to hustle they'd forgotten how. As I picked up his report card a pink 1st Grade Newsletter fluttered to the floor. I started to scan it idly, barely skimming the news of what units were going to be covered when and who was reading what book and etc. Then a single little sentence, enclosed in a little box of hearts, caught my attention. "The 1st grade classes will be exchanging Valentines on February 15."

My heart dropped into my Crocs.

That.Was.Today. The kids had been to school exactly one day last week, and precisely one day the week before that. Two the week before that. I had actually asked Lawson last night (the only day I'd seen him all weekend, since Autumn and I had been out of town for a tumbling meet) if they were exchanging Valentines. He.Said.No.

I looked at the clock. It was time to leave. I would like to say that I handled the next five minutes with grace and tact and patience, but I would be telling a big fat lie. I yelled. "Lawson! You told me you weren't exchanging Valentines!"

Lawson looked at me in confusion.

"What's exchange mean?"

"You're supposed to have Valentines to give to your friends!"

"Yeah, I made my bag already."

"But you don't have any Valentines!"

"That's alright. They'll still give me Valentines."

"YOU CAN"T DO THAT! IT ISN'T RIGHT!" Autumn and Lawson just looked at me, all 'who is this crazy woman in our kitchen and what has she done with Mom.' I tried for a kinder, gentler tone. "Autumn, are you supposed to exchange Valentines?"

"No."

"Are you SURE?"

"Yes, I'm positive."

"Let's.Go." We then had to wait ten minutes for Lawson to put his shoes on, find his coat, tie his shoes, and get in the car. And then the cell phone rang. It was Duane.

"Don't forget we have that meeting today at 1:30." AAARGH. All of my well-laid shower plans, down the shower drain.

"I don't have time for this..." I muttered, then recovered. "Okay. I'll be there." I had agreed, I vaguely remembered, several weeks earlier. It wasn't his fault the weather hadn't cooperated.

I am now tiptoeing gingerly through my Monday minefield, waiting for another shoe to drop. I'm trying to figure out where I can cram another task in order to complete everything I need to complete. I suspect I'll either be vaccuuming at midnight, or serving Panera tomorrow. Or both. And we may be wearing dirty clothes.

But you know what? Tomorrow's Tuesday, and this too, shall pass.

12 comments:

Lori said...

And I guess I should tell you that Lawson was thirty minutes late to school, because we went to Food Lion, bought Valentines, and sat in the car preparing them so he'd have them to give to his friends. I am not sending my kid to school without Valentines. Uh-uh. I'm not going to be That Mom. ;)

Mamma has spoken said...

Well if you get the snow storm that is hitting Kentucky now, you won't have school tomorrow! Oh and how I hate when the kids forget things like that! My sons even as young adults still do that to me!

Richard & Natalie said...

Monday Minefield. What a totally appropriate name.
Our kids are out today for Presidents Day, so our Monday will be tomorrow. Mondays are always better when they start on Tuesday! :)

PS- I would've done the same thing with the valentines...We definitely don't want to be THAT mother. (shudder)

Teachinfourth said...

Wow, you are quite the dedicated Single's-Awareness-Day's advocate, aren't you? I probably would have just told him to make some valentines out of old cereal packings or something...

Rachel said...

Lori, You know what? For years my mom has said, "This too shall pass" when I've complained to her about this that and the other. Finally, I said to her, "You know what mom? Gas passes. But it doesn't mean it isn't painful!"

Here's to hoping the rest of this week doesn't stink. :D

PMC said...

OH, this was good to read...misery loves company! I have lots of company. Nice gas comment Rachel! I hope your day is FABULOUS today...Tuesday...not Monday. Mondays are stupid.

Cee Tindall said...

AKKK! I WAS that mother! In order to teach my second son a lesson one year, I did just that! I'm such a loser mom!!!!! Maybe that's why he got into drugs and quit high school so that I had to homeschool him to get his GED? Now I know where I went wrong!

I'm going to use that term, "Monday Minefield" too - it's so true!

Awesome post!

Lori said...

MHS--Well, we only got a little snow mid-day, so we did end up going to school Tues, just a couple of hours late. It was nice to sleep in again, though.

Nat--there was always something so totally awesome about starting the week off on a Tues when I was teaching...I sort of miss that.

J--*smiling* I never noticed until just now, but isn't it cute how the acronym for Singles' Awareness Day is SAD? What smart-aleck thought of that?

Rachel--I know I can always count on you for a bellylaugh...that's just sublime.

Misty--Mondays are DUMB AS ROCKS, aren't they? ;) And today was much better, thanks...

Cee--HAHA! In all honesty, if I hadn't felt guilty as all get-out (there was a note, sort of) I'd have done the same thing, or the cereal pkging. I'm definitely not above teaching a lesson. But that little "well, I don't know what exchange means" kind of got me. What do you do?

Anaise said...

Whew! I'm glad that's not how my Monday went!

Poor little man--he just was too small to know any different--I'll bet he remembers forever now! Because of this moment, he'll probably grow up to be a man who never forgets to do something special for Valentine's Day!!!

There now, a near-crisis has become a valuable life lesson that will bless him forever! :)

Wishing you a peaceful week.

Lori said...

I just wish I had laughed instead of yelled, Anaise. Ah, well. A lesson for me. Thanks for the wish.

Linn said...

My heart did a flip-flop when I read that and my mind suddenly went through the steps of what I would do. I'm so strange like that.

I'm working on the laugh-instead-of-yell technique. Working being the key word. Errr.

Linn said...

PS. I just read Rachel's comment and had to comment again.

My dad used to say, "This too shall pass...and get worse." Thanks Dad! Actually, he said it with a smile and somehow it made me feel better.

When he saw this poster for the first time, he laughed until tears poured down his face. Love my dad!

http://despair.com/despair.html

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...