It's Thursday. How is it already Thursday and why did my children change from happy, smoothly moving girls last week in the mornings to the growling, whiny, talkative, distracted children I'm waving maniacally happy at as they walk out the door with their daddy every morning because I'll have twenty minutes of blessed silence before I walk out the door to work? How? We didn't change anything. We're not rushed. Our bedtime hasn't altered. What the heck?
I had a smooth-moving, well-oiled machine going. And I had the temerity to write about it last week. That's it; that's what jinxed it. Damnit! Nah, I know it wasn't that, but the temptation to make an illusory correlation is certainly there. It's nice, it's tidy, and it provides resolution.
The reality is, though, that life is messy, fluid, and moods change, and a large family all trying to get ready in the morning and get chores done before all leaving at about the same time, while navigating who gets into which bathroom, along with all the attendant distractions and tracking down of kids who now disappear randomly into rooms, creates its own sort of issues. Add to it that we feed on each others' moods, and that by the end of the week, Rick and I are tired, really tired, it makes sense that things don't always run smoothly. The truth is, I don't know why this week is different, I don't. Hormones? Who knows? Who's hormones?
I just know they're leaving in less than ten minutes and I'm counting those ten long minutes down. Seriously. Watching the clock. Waiting...for bliss, for ten minutes, twenty minutes, of silence, blissful silence.