Being The Weekend

By the time I gather my things together at the end of the day and pick up Larry, we are pretty exhausted from stress. Many days this year, in particular, I feel singularly beaten down. This discourages my attempts to adopt a more positive attitude in life, although I plan to keep trying. It also makes it more difficult to get up and go to work every day. Who would want to go to work feeling like they had a huge target on their back? By the time we arrive at the daycare, it is occasionally difficult just to get out of the car, we are so despondent. Thank God it's the weekend, Larry and I say to each other, but we are thinking of the same thing: the brilliant smile of our son.

But then I walk into that daycare and my son comes running to me, smiling, wanting to be picked up. And the stress begins to melt off my body like candle wax. His teacher shared with me yesterday that in the middle of a game, Zane stopped what he was doing. He had been participating in a game of musical chairs, was laughing, and seemed to be having fun, his teacher reported, but he stopped. Why stop?

Because he somehow knew that it was close to pickup time.

Because he wanted to sit where he could see the door.

Because he wanted to see his parents when they arrived.

Best. Stress. Relief. Ever.

The Weekend is No Picnic

I have a bajillion things to do. Seriously, it's a bajillion. I counted. I should be happy that it's not a bazillion, I suppose.

I will be the first person to admit that I am a procrastinator. I know that those of you in Blogland are shaking your heads in disbelief, but it is the truth. Oh my intentions are always good. It's just that I get interrupted. I've been interrupted seven times just since I sat down to write this paragraph. I sit down in front of my computer...

The cat wants out.

The other cat wants a treat.

Put load of laundry in washing machine.

The first cat wants in.

Zane needs the light turned on in the bathroom.

My coffee is cold. I put it in the microwave.

Zane can't find his underpants.

Zane is traumatized by his underpants because they are not his Hulk underpants.Negotiations conclude with Wolverine underpants being deemed acceptable.

The cat wants out.

Pull coffee out of microwave. Still cold. Put back in microwave and turn microwave ON this time.

Zane needs help washing his hands.

Zane wants to brush his teeth.

The cat wants in.

Zane needs a sticker for washing his hands. And brushing his teeth

The cat wants in. Oh, wait, that's not my cat at the door.

Feed Lalo, the Feral Cat, who is only Semi-Feral. Sort of like Semi-Retired.

Locate Hulk underpants in washing machine. Turn ON washing machine.

Extricate Zane from the web he has made from an Ace bandage his father left sitting out.

Zane decides that he wants to be Aqua Lad from Young Justice.

The cat wants out.

Take coffee out of microwave. Still cold.

Gather up recycling.

Cat wants in.

Other cat wants petting.

Zane decides that he wants waffles. With butter.

Cat wants out.

Sigh.