I say, "Hello Monday!" And Monday says, "I hate you Cynthia!"

I'm still having my usual Monday hangover, even though it is now 6pm. I woke up this morning and said "Hey, Monday...can't we be friends?" And it said "No way!" So, after I got the kids to school, Lincoln down for a nap and Micah parked in front of the tv, I snoozed on the couch. When I woke up again, due to husband banging around in the garage and Lincoln waking up, Monday still didn't want to be friends. Well, I tried! Maybe next Monday!

I have been accused of being an anti-cheeryite by a Monday morning lover. Hey, I can be cheery with the rest of ya'll, but just not on Monday morning. I love the weekends because John is home!! His work schedule is Mon-Thurs, 4pm to 2 am. I'm home with the kids 4 evenings alone to handle dinner, homework, play-dates, etc. But, on the weekends, John is there to help. We also go on a date or 2.

Last night, on a whim, we decided to do a McDonald's run. We were both so hungry and all of the kids were in bed. I got my coat and shoes on. John got his coat and shoe on. He could only find one shoe. So, he hopped out to the car on one foot...his left foot. Apparently he is right-footed because it was not a pretty sight. Then he had to use his barefoot to push on the brake and the gas pedal. This would account for the whiplash that I got. Hee hee! It was fun.

After eating our food, I just didn't want to go to bed. This is how it always is on Sunday night. If I go to bed, then Monday comes faster. So, I end up staying up super late and then have to literally drag myself out of bed to get the kiddos to school. I really pay for those late nights, but I still haven't learned. I stay up anyway.

When I climb the stairs on Monday morning, I can almost hear the dreadful, suspenseful music. You know, the music in movies that let's you know that something bad is about to happen. John and I sleep down in the basement. The main living area is upstairs. When I reach the landing, I just don't want to look. And then I do, and the psycho music starts playing. The kitchen sink is filled with dirty dishes. The table top is nowhere to be seen. The tv room has popcorn crumbs all over, as well as toys that I can trip on and break my neck. The laundry basket in the hallway is overflowing, as well as the garbage can in the kitchen. Somehow, even though I had seen this same mess the night before, it grew scarier while I was sleeping. The house has imploded! HELP!!!!

I scurry and hurry and get the kids off to school. I'm the mom you see at the school with her hair tousled and she's still in her pajamas. Motherhood has stripped me of all my pride. I really don't care what anyone thinks. At least I get my kids to school on time (mostly, I'll save that story for another post).

I arrive back home to the cutest baby, babbling and playing on the floor and Micah half asleep, asking for a peanut butter and honey "straight cut" sandwich. (This means he wants his sandwich cut in half.) I oblige, and include a cup of strawberry milk that I know he'll ask for exactly 2 minutes after I crash on the couch. Oh,wait! I've got to feed Lincoln too! I make him a bottle and hand it to him. He drinks it while lying on the floor. He's not content to be in anyone's arms anymore to be fed. --sniff sniff-- They grow up too fast!

I evenutally get a shower. This could be anywhere between noon and 9pm. I never thought I'd be this way, after getting up, showering, dressing, doing hair and make-up at 5am in the morning to make it to seminary before school. But, here I am. I'm tired. Better said, I'm whooped! This is why Diet Coke has become my friend. I admit that I'm addicted. But, no one can take it from me, it's all I have! Okay, that's very dramatic. But, for now, it is true. Someday I will overcome my addiction, but I can only handle one goal at a time.

I want to be friends with Monday. I know the only way to do it is go to bed earlier (scream), and plan ahead (gasp). I never knew being a grown up would be so hard. I actually have to be responsible for myself as well as 6 others (7, if you include John). Hee hee. Mark (my 15 year old) says that he already knows everything he needs to in order to take care of himself and that being a grown up is so easy. Oh boy, John and I got a good laugh out of that one!!! So, we told Mark to hurry and move out now, while he knows everything. He wasn't too keen on that idea.

Well, I guess I should act more my age and be more responsible. I have to call a truce with Monday. This can't go on any more. I will take the first step. I will go to bed earlier next Sunday. If that goes well, I will try to take another step. Baby steps. I can't go around leaping, someone (me) could get hurt!

I hope you all had a great Monday! Cynthia