•7:33 AM
Mondays can be rough, especially when your Sundays are as busy as ours are. Patrick had a very early and important meeting scheduled for this morning in the City, so we worked out a plan last night whereby I would get up at 5:40 and drive Christian to Seminary, and Patrick would take the 6:57 train into Manhattan. (Patrick usually takes Christian while I get the other kids up and make breakfast and lunches.)
Ah, the best-laid plans. Christian and I got home from Seminary at 7:00 and were rushing to get lunches made with James's help when Patrick walked back into the house. A state trooper had pulled him over and given him a speeding ticket, causing him to miss that crucial train. Now, Patrick can always admit it when he is in the wrong, so when he tells me that he wasn't, in fact, speeding this time, I totally believe him. He came home to check the schedule and see whether he could catch another train down in Croton that would get him to that meeting on time (he couldn't), then left again under a bit of a dark cloud, poor thing.
Daniel complained about breakfast. "We had this sixteen years ago," he cried in dismay, then got really mad and threw a fit when I started laughing uncontrollably (Daniel is three). I am now wearing sackcloth and ashes as I repent of mortally injuring his pride.
I'm tired, tired, tired, after hosting a bridal shower Friday night (dinner at our house for 25); working like mad Saturday on our donated gift baskets for the auction at the Youth Camp Fundraiser Saturday night; and teaching a tough doctrinal topic in Relief Society (the Church's women's organization) yesterday. But today is Needlework Group, so I've got to rally, clean up the usual weekend detritus, and make some treats for when the ladies get here at 10:00. There's no rest to be had today, unfortunately.
(Ladies, I love you and look forward to your terrific company, and I know deep down that you would never judge me for having unswept floors, an overflowing hamper, and no baked goods to offer. Still, I must forgo a nap and prepare for your arrival.)
But bright spots can get me through even the crummiest of Monday mornings. I got an email this morning from a long-lost friend with whom I've recently reconnected. He found my blog a few months ago, and it's been fun to renew our relationship after 20+ years. This morning he sent me a link to a video of "That's Entertainment," by The Jam, a song he first heard when we were driving in his Volkswagen Scirocco from Santa Cruz to San Francisco. (I had been a fan of the band already for several years; I've just always been hip that way.)
The Jam elevated the savoring of bitterness to high pop art; "That's Entertainment" is a great example of lead singer/songwriter Paul Weller's genius in the medium. Though the words are about life in a small, downtrodden English town, for me they will always evoke the memory of driving up Highway One, windows down and Doritos bag and Big Gulp wedged next to the emergency brake, me singing full-throated to the accompaniment of a poor-quality cassette mix tape with a good buddy at my side. And today the song reminds me that, after all, I've got it pretty darn good.
Ah, the best-laid plans. Christian and I got home from Seminary at 7:00 and were rushing to get lunches made with James's help when Patrick walked back into the house. A state trooper had pulled him over and given him a speeding ticket, causing him to miss that crucial train. Now, Patrick can always admit it when he is in the wrong, so when he tells me that he wasn't, in fact, speeding this time, I totally believe him. He came home to check the schedule and see whether he could catch another train down in Croton that would get him to that meeting on time (he couldn't), then left again under a bit of a dark cloud, poor thing.
Daniel complained about breakfast. "We had this sixteen years ago," he cried in dismay, then got really mad and threw a fit when I started laughing uncontrollably (Daniel is three). I am now wearing sackcloth and ashes as I repent of mortally injuring his pride.
I'm tired, tired, tired, after hosting a bridal shower Friday night (dinner at our house for 25); working like mad Saturday on our donated gift baskets for the auction at the Youth Camp Fundraiser Saturday night; and teaching a tough doctrinal topic in Relief Society (the Church's women's organization) yesterday. But today is Needlework Group, so I've got to rally, clean up the usual weekend detritus, and make some treats for when the ladies get here at 10:00. There's no rest to be had today, unfortunately.
(Ladies, I love you and look forward to your terrific company, and I know deep down that you would never judge me for having unswept floors, an overflowing hamper, and no baked goods to offer. Still, I must forgo a nap and prepare for your arrival.)
But bright spots can get me through even the crummiest of Monday mornings. I got an email this morning from a long-lost friend with whom I've recently reconnected. He found my blog a few months ago, and it's been fun to renew our relationship after 20+ years. This morning he sent me a link to a video of "That's Entertainment," by The Jam, a song he first heard when we were driving in his Volkswagen Scirocco from Santa Cruz to San Francisco. (I had been a fan of the band already for several years; I've just always been hip that way.)
The Jam elevated the savoring of bitterness to high pop art; "That's Entertainment" is a great example of lead singer/songwriter Paul Weller's genius in the medium. Though the words are about life in a small, downtrodden English town, for me they will always evoke the memory of driving up Highway One, windows down and Doritos bag and Big Gulp wedged next to the emergency brake, me singing full-throated to the accompaniment of a poor-quality cassette mix tape with a good buddy at my side. And today the song reminds me that, after all, I've got it pretty darn good.
For more Music Monday, please visit its creative originator, Soccer Mom in Denial!
11 comments:
Wow, I really don't know how you do all these things along with raising a family and keeping your sanity. Seriously, when I read your day to day activities I'm astounded. Have fun with the Needlework today and maybe try to squeeze in that nap.
Oh my, what a morning. And pregnant, too! I can visualize it all, and send huge sympathetic hugs. There's always tomorrow . . .
PS
Definitely scratch the cleanup. Nap's are more important when you're exhausted.
Paul Weller is indeed brilliant -- thanks for the mini-detour down my personal memory lane.
And I also vote for the nap -- the cleanup will be there for whenever -- but a nap is one of life's greatest and simplest pleasures.
Thanks so much for the Paul Weller pick-me-up! But sheesh, Luisa, I get tired even imagining all you do! And I'm not even the slightest bit pregnant.
I am so bummed. I have missed the enjoyment of the fruits from so much of your hard work! ( I didn’t mean to neglect you.)
Every minute that you are pregnant you are ALREADY doing important work! Take that nap, grow that baby.
I have visions of Patrick in a courtroom somewhere fighting that ticket.
Poor Daniel, sometimes it is just so hard not to laugh!
NOTE TO SELF: laugh at graham crackers that can't fly but NOT at a food served...(is there a word for 'once every 2 decades'?) bi-decennially. (?)
To Lilacspecs: Truly, it is even more astounding up close!(Heck, it was astounding when she had 4 children, I don’t know what to call it 1 and 7/9 children later!) I have grilled her regularly in search of her secret wisdom (or the location of her time-turner) and although my quest continues, I have learned to just learn, appreciate, admire -not compare. Luisa is something special! (“Special” -in all the good ways.)
Sssh, Lilac, you have stumbled upon my secret: let go of the sanity, and there's just enough time and energy for everything else you want to do.
Oh dear. Take a nap. Whew! Your Sundays sound so exhausting. I always think of you when I'm wanting to whine about my own Sundays. But good. ness, girl. You may have outdone yourself with these last few days...
(And grrrrr about the speeding ticket. I can't wait to hear about how Patrick gets himself out of it...)
Hey, I passed my driver's test in a shirocco--we won't talk about the one I failed two weeks earlier--they were dang cute cars. Here's hoping that Tuesday provides you a wee bit more time to chill :-)
I'm tired now. And I really have no excuse for it besides reading about your life. Phew.
A difficult morning. I find some mornings that way too. I love what Daniel said. I would have laughed too. It is great to find and reacquaint with old friends and wonderful to have music to remind us of days gone by and give us a lift on days when tasks just seem to drag us down.