Weekends

The rain has consistently fallen for over 48 hours; drizzling here, spitting there. Plenty of rain provides a weekend of cooped up parents and kids. Sorry, Backgammon, it's not enough. For the moment it is. You ride the high for 30 minutes and become sullen again, searching for the next activity. Oh yeah, all while yelling at the kids every so often to stop screaming and running around: "Egan's sleeping!"

I envy the folks who declare weekends as their resting, calming point of the week. Romanticizing the long mornings and everlasting solitude. It's got to be the houseful that makes this vision virtually impossible for me. Such a struggle: do nothing or get stuff done; take advantage of Jon's presence to get to the errands that haunt me all week, or do nothing. Most of the time I opt for doing nothing, which I justify due to the week being MY work-week. Jon shares the domestic responsibilities with me on the weekends, so I feel I can slack off when it's all me all week long.

And yet I choose to do nothing--if you call laundry, tidying, tending to yahoos and husband nothing-- while the feeling of restlessness resonates through my very being. Ruth Fisher said it best. And I paraphrase, "Motherhood is the lonliest feeling in the entire world." Without the patience to psychoanalyze my connection to this quote, I really feel a strong bond to what she said. Sure the current status of our living situation with Jon working in Chicago four days a week has something to do with it. It's just so true. Motherhood is lonely. I'm thinking it may have more to do with not working or tending to hobbies or other interests outside of my children. At this point I feel blessed and ever grateful to not have to work while tending to three children, a house, and a husband. Blecht. I said I wouldn't psychoanalyze..big thoughts and could go on, but choose to change the subject. Psychoanalyze THAT!

I'm in the need of a road trip (speaking of psychoanalyzing!), and have a few planned within the next coupla months. Meanwhile, I love road trips with my family, spending time with my posse. My posse of yahoos. Who wouldn't? And now with our rig big enough to fit everyone, we're just dying to get her on a legitimate, cross-state-lines, road trip. Let 'er feel the open road, her redness gracing the countryside with European happiness. Next weekend my goddaughter will celebrate the next sequential obligatory sacrament, so that will get us as far as CR.

A shower could do me good at this point in the day. Until next time.