Last week we had a bad day. (I hear they have those, even in Australia.)
It started out fine. I had a hearty To-Do ist full of everything that doesn’t get done while I’m at the office. I got up early (4:30) and had two hours to write and do a little yoga. So far, so good.
My phone replacement-cover had come in the mail, so I replaced the shattered back. ($10 including shipping. Good instructions: 5 minutes flat. No waiting for an Apple Genius.)
Sam came down and headed to work. Taco soup went into the crockpot for lunch.
The children awoke, and we got started on reading. We read about Washington’s strategic movements in New York and New Jersey, his frustration with foriegn adventurers and Lafayette’s arrival. How Lafayette’s humility endeared him to Washington, and how Alexander Hamilton’s presence (and fluency in French) made way for a great collaboration.
Math tantrums were had [no photo available]. Spanish was learned. I gave O his piano lesson.
I made yogurt, did 3 loads of laundry, and made bread. By lunch I was EXHAUSTED.
SweetP asked me to play house with her and M. She was the Mom, I was the “Honey.” She said I was sick and tucked me in on the couch to rest.
Two and a half hours later, I woke up. The girls had moved on to play upstairs, and the boys were still playing on the DS.
Nothing was on fire or overflowing the sink. No food was burned, no appointments missed. But the day was gone, and O & M hadn’t finished their notebook work. (M had barely started hers.) Dinner wasn’t started. No one (except me) had had rest time. And swimm team was going to start in an hour.
I never caught up. The day that started so well finished with dishes everywhere, unfinished geography and writing, too much screen time, and a frustrated mama. Definitely a pacing problem, as if I had a seven-mile run ahead of me and started out at Sam’s pace. (Which is ridiculous, because I couldn’t run even half a mile at his pace.)
How often do I shoot myself in the foot with a too-long to-do list? Unrealistic expectations for what I (or the children) can handle in a day? Usually, those days fail the other way– with my unfulfilled expectations looming over me until I shatter in a yelling mess. This day’s fail was at least peaceful.
What’s your solution for a day like this? Do you just say, “It is what it is,” and start over tomorrow? Or do you have a magic secret for hitting RESET mid-stride? Do share in the comments.