Well, date afternoon to be more accurate. Every Wednesday my mom takes her grandson for an afternoon play date so I can have a few hours to myself. It's funny, once you've become used to toting an infant with you everywhere, and adjusted to the constant (mostly welcome) interruptions to whatever you're doing, it is absolutly amazing how fast things seem to get done when you're on your own. All a matter of perspective I suppose. I had grand ideas about booking weekly appointments with a massage therapist, getting together with friends or just taking a nice long bubble bath in hot water (gasp!) past my knees (gasp!). Hasn't happened yet. So far I have spent each midweek respite either cleaning or running errands. This is my own fault, I'm not jonesing for sympathy here. Anyone with a busy life can relate to this; you finally get some time to yourself and the little devil on your left says party, and the little angel on the right tsks at the dirty laundry piles and sink full of dishes.
I need to learn to schedule my time better so I'm not left facing (literal) mountains of guilt every Wednesday. I got the house in decent shape this afternoon and the feeling of being able to really relax after dinner without anxiously glancing around at my domestic To Do list was delightful. I went to the kitchen during a Dragons's Den commercial break to make myself some tea, and didn't have to shield my eyes from the sink- it was sparkly clean. I put Hunter on the floor (the FLOOR!) to practice rolling over. I don't have to feel bad about Ian hunting through laundry baskets for work clothes in the morning; they're in the closet, folded and everything. It's a glorious feeling. Now that I'm not working, this house is my full time job. It feels good to end the day knowing I've held myself to the same standards of order that I do at work. It doesn't happen often, and I know there will be many more days of total chaos and mess ahead, and that's okay. But I do want to take pride in my role as a homemaker. There's nothing 1950's about that. Home is the center of all that is good and constant in the world. It's where we rest, celebrate, gather, make love, hide, grow, eat and dream. I should be honored to be tasked with caring for such a sacred space.
Anyway, I'm waxing poetic about the dishes being done- it must be a rare occurrence!
So that's pretty much the biggest dilemma in my world right now- scheduling household cleaning chores. Clean floors Wednesday, bathrooms Thursday, groceries Friday? No, flyer prices start Monday, better do groceries on Monday, so clean fridge on Fridays, but garbage has to go out Thursday night, so fridge clean on Thursday (nothing worse than week-old moldy food garbage). Weekends are off-peak electricity rate all day, so laundry on weekends, so change sheets on Fridays. Wednesdays are for errands while baby and grandma have their date, would be nice to lump that with groceries but all the good sales will be sold out by then...
I should get my grandmother to help me out with this. She'll be 90 years old in April, and she runs her house tighter than the CIA headquarters, all by herself. Even her orchids are on a schedule; Wednesdays are for spritzing the leaves, Fridays are for watering, I think. Her energy astounds me. I need some of whatever she drinks.
It's Danish schnapps, by the way.
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