Today has been a difficult day. Jonathan and I both got out of bed on the wrong side, and we've been clashing since about 30 seconds into the morning. I'm still trying to get over being sick and could really use more sleep than I actually get to have. And some days (like today) I just want to be lazy.
I'd like to ignore my responsibilities around the house (I can't keep up with them all, anyway) and pretend that I don't have small ones calling my name (I can't keep up with them, either.) I'd like to sit cuddled up in pillows on the couch and watch a television episode. Or two or three. And read a book. Garden in peace and quiet and have the bulbs I plant stay planted. Take a long cool shower without listening for the tell-tale wails of one child who has just been bonked by the other. Bake a loaf of homemade bread, listen to quiet music, eat chocolate cookies and drink cold glasses of iced tea.
Seriously, doesn't that sound nice?
The thing is, when you're a mom of littles, you just don't get to be lazy. Even when you really, really want to.
Instead, today we have gardened together, and the bulbs have been planted twice, and some of the plants have been stepped on.
I have read my to-do list quite a few times without actually checking anything off. I have read Calvin and Hobbes comics to Jonathan and attempted to explain why they are funny.
I have tried to get the dishes washed in between putting my kids in time out for hitting each other over the head. They still aren't done.
We have looked at a dead bug, lying in the palm of my hand, and counted its legs and its eyes and marveled at its wings.
Josiah has nursed and I started to read a book in the "encouragement to mothers" genre, only to give up in mild despair. Some days those books are inspiring. Not today.
I want to be lazy. I want to be lazy in the pleasant, enjoyable way where I choose not to accomplish anything on my list and just do fun things instead. It isn't nearly as nice to keep being diligent and still get to 3pm without much to show for it.