You know how I'm kind of high strung and a little on the neurotic side? Well, for the past few years I've been carrying all my stress in my shoulders and thoracic back muscles. I've started doing a little yoga when I can or dance in my kitchen. When I am really pressed for time, I just turn up my van radio and dance with my upper body.
You know you're guilty of it too so wipe that judgmental smirk off your face.
Last night I caved and took a muscle relaxant. The end of the world could have come and I'd have slept through it. Unfortunately, morning does come and 5 people moving around flipping lights on and off tend to irritate the mother bear in hibernation. So does a certain cub that keeps kicking her. So I sit up and blink a few times, swing my feet over the side and plod to the kitchen to take inventory.
First of all, I've got carpool in 15 minutes. I'm supposed to be driving to work in 20 minutes, and suddenly, the boy whose school day starts in 10 remembers that, even though it's only Feb. 11th, they are doing Valentine exchanges today. Oddly, I found myself prepared this year and we're all helping him sign his name on the cards. Scott takes him to school and does carpool.
I jump in shower to wash away my Flexeril haze and realize I have nobody to take my kindergartner to school. Not only that, but it's a big kindergarten holiday. The HUNDREDTH DAY of school! Trust me. It's big. I jump out of the shower, run naked through the house and put my hand on his forehead. "You're sick," I announce. "Yay!" he replies. Then I promptly take him to daycare. I realize it isn't logical in your brain but that's not what's important. It's logical in HIS brain.
Speaking of brains, mine is still foggy by the time I get to work (late). Still, I'm home by early afternoon and let the sick boy play Wii and I start to drift off to sleep. My cell phone rings. I don't answer it. The land phone rings. I don't answer it. My cell phone rings again. I sigh and answer it. It's the 13 year old. She knows she will see her friends today so she wants her valentines to give to them right now. But I'm so tired. I run them down to her.
Home again and I just start to dose. The telephone rings. I already know it's my 10 year old calling for a ride. He has his science fair project and a card table to bring home. I drive over to pick him up. Look all over the school but in the 100 seconds it took me to drive to the school, he agreed to a ride with a neighbor.
Home again. I don't even attempt the nap. Ten minutes later my 15 year old calls and wants a ride home. So I go get her.
I need a nanny and a massage.
I'll settle for the massage.
You know you're guilty of it too so wipe that judgmental smirk off your face.
Last night I caved and took a muscle relaxant. The end of the world could have come and I'd have slept through it. Unfortunately, morning does come and 5 people moving around flipping lights on and off tend to irritate the mother bear in hibernation. So does a certain cub that keeps kicking her. So I sit up and blink a few times, swing my feet over the side and plod to the kitchen to take inventory.
First of all, I've got carpool in 15 minutes. I'm supposed to be driving to work in 20 minutes, and suddenly, the boy whose school day starts in 10 remembers that, even though it's only Feb. 11th, they are doing Valentine exchanges today. Oddly, I found myself prepared this year and we're all helping him sign his name on the cards. Scott takes him to school and does carpool.
I jump in shower to wash away my Flexeril haze and realize I have nobody to take my kindergartner to school. Not only that, but it's a big kindergarten holiday. The HUNDREDTH DAY of school! Trust me. It's big. I jump out of the shower, run naked through the house and put my hand on his forehead. "You're sick," I announce. "Yay!" he replies. Then I promptly take him to daycare. I realize it isn't logical in your brain but that's not what's important. It's logical in HIS brain.
Speaking of brains, mine is still foggy by the time I get to work (late). Still, I'm home by early afternoon and let the sick boy play Wii and I start to drift off to sleep. My cell phone rings. I don't answer it. The land phone rings. I don't answer it. My cell phone rings again. I sigh and answer it. It's the 13 year old. She knows she will see her friends today so she wants her valentines to give to them right now. But I'm so tired. I run them down to her.
Home again and I just start to dose. The telephone rings. I already know it's my 10 year old calling for a ride. He has his science fair project and a card table to bring home. I drive over to pick him up. Look all over the school but in the 100 seconds it took me to drive to the school, he agreed to a ride with a neighbor.
Home again. I don't even attempt the nap. Ten minutes later my 15 year old calls and wants a ride home. So I go get her.
I need a nanny and a massage.
I'll settle for the massage.
After running through the house naked, and before you drove to daycare, I'm assuming you left out the part where you got dressed.
ReplyDeleteThanks for my first laugh of the day!
Join Groupon.com, wait for a great deal on a massage...and leave the cell phone at all.
end of unsolicited advice.
Dang it! I missed the naked running. See what I get for doing car pool.
ReplyDeleteHubby
I remember days like that. And, now, maybe I'm not hating this empty nest as much. LOL
ReplyDeleteIf you're still doing naked running, you must look as good now as when we were in college. I NEVER do the naked running--I don't want my family dying of fright.
ReplyDeleteDays like this, you know you should have let everyone stay home sick - had the olders watch the youngers and threaten that if anyone disturbs Mommy they will get their teeth kicked in.
ReplyDeleteJust an idea
Anne -
ReplyDeleteI never ran naked through the apartment. Although I do seem to recall a pipe that spit out a quart of water when either of us showered. If I took advantage of this while you showered, I can't be blamed.
Wow. I am tired for you. I will make my husband give me a massage in your honor.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome.