Fred and I had a date yesterday that spilled into later in the evening. We took a bus trip to Chicago to see the symphony and it was inspiring! I thought of a lot of themes, stories, blurbs and visions to write in the future posts of my blog.
But, I'll start with today. It is Monday. It's a foggy grey here in Laketown and although we thoroughly enjoyed our 12 hour Sunday date, we came home last night to a messy house. Albeit, the girls were both sound asleep so that was a relief! There were just a lot of crafts all over and the dishes were glaring at me as if they were about to fall like Jenga blocks in the sink. It isn't how I would like to start a Monday morning.
Sarah woke up very early, although, I am not sure the exact time because, for some reason, all our clocks in our home are 5 - 30 minutes different from one another. I feel like I am living in a Twilight episode and for some reason, I think I have some odd handicap that won't allow me to fix the clock problem. So, I live day to day, complaining about it to Fred and never knowing the actual time. So weird!
Sarah awakens dark and early, the sun not even awake. She comes to me in bed and says, "I hungwee Mommy." I blindly find the remote control to turn on the Disney Channel in hopes to get a couple of more snoozes. Hearing a whiny nosed clown talking about being nice and exercise puts me in between sleep and hell, but nevertheless, I gently fall back asleep. Sarah then has me help her pull her sumo-sized diaper off and she jiggles as she runs to the bathroom to, what I hope put the dirty diaper in the trash. Instead, she puts it in the toilet. Oh joy. I hear the flush and realize with one eye open what just happened. I think, I could get possibly one more snooze in before the water actually drips over, and then I hear, "I hungwee Mommy!" with a hint of more enthusiasm and urgency.
I decide to put my feet on the floor and waddle to the bathroom. I realize thankfully that the diaper made it's way into the garbage can. I must have had a nightmare that it went swirling in the toilette. Perhaps it was just a foreshadowing of what was to come on my Monday morning.
We venture downstairs. Sarah is standing on her princess stool at the counter with a spoon, a bowl and a package of oatmeal all waiting patiently for me. We make the oatmeal and before I blinked, Sarah was angry about something and flung the bowl like a frisbee into the front room. The oatmeal gooped all over the carpet and seeped into the fibers before I could manage to put Sarah in a time out and get a towel to wipe up. Two minutes, ten tears, and one more package of oatmeal later, Sarah is sitting happily, eating her curds and whey.
What more joys of life with our Monday bring? Stay tuned!