Monday mornings are the worst for me. Every other day, I wake up happy and ready to go. I suppose that is obnoxious to the night owls but when our children were born I became an early bird and am still. But, Mondays are tough for me. I am worn out from Sunday, the week begins and all I can think of is the laundry to be done, kitchen to be cleaned and other boring house stuff. I'm gone a good bit of the weekend so my family enjoys home feeling as though they can do what they wish (be messy).
Over the years I've learned to go into a meditative state when I do housework. It's rote work and perfect for zoning out. By paying attention and NOT paying attention, I can get the work done without interfering with whatever I'm pondering in my head. This is good.
When I get huffy about cleaning up, I remind myself that I will have future years without messy children at home. I doubt I will miss their mess but I know I will miss them. For whatever reason, this is the time in my life to be the only one in the family who willingly changes paper towel rolls, toilet tissue rolls and cleans out the refrigerator.
Children do chores but don't do them joyfully. I don't do chores with as much joy as I could, either. The LH is oblivious to most household stuff so he floats through leaving empty coffee cups, shoes and other detritus in his wake. When he does clean up, he moves stuff to the floor to create empty surfaces then doesn't clean the empty space.
And, it all comes together on Monday mornings.
Today, I'd rather play in the yard cutting back the browning bananna plants, picking up sticks and cleaning gutters. Is that play? For me it is play.
The quotidian mysteries of my family life........let me consider this further.
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