I like my quiet Saturday mornings

Today is not a normal Saturday.

It’s 8:30 in the morning and everybody is home. Of course, they’re all asleep, but they’re still home nonetheless.

And me? I’m making a very vague attempt at savoring the very small piece of quiet time I have before the chaos begins. Of course, knowing my family, it will be at least an hour before I see any movement, but that will unfortunately mark the end of my time to myself.

I’m not use to that.

Rolling out of bed on Saturday mornings usually has a very different feel. I wake up – somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 AM – and the house is still. Tony is either hunting or at work, and my girls are with their dad.

Not that I am ever that productive, but, at the very least, I had several hours of peace during the week. I could do whatever I wanted, I could watch whatever I wanted, and most importantly, I was not confined to any particular room of the house.

It’s only a few hours. Maybe 5, at the most. But it’s my time. I write lists, clean up the house, go to the gym, or even run some errands. For that short time, I don’t have to answer to anyone. Just myself.

I get to just be me and do what I want to do without feeling pulled in every direction.

But today is different. With every family member home – and asleep in various rooms of the house – I’ve had to resort to taking up residency in the only available space.

The kitchen.

I’m uncomfortable, and I’m cold. I’m afraid of making too much noise at the risk of waking someone up. I know it’s only a matter of time.

There will be someone wanting breakfast. Someone wanted to know what I’m doing. Someone reminding me that I am not alone to my own thoughts.

Don’t get me wrong. I really do love my family. But I also love my space. Space that we just don’t have.

It’s at this moment when I am very shrewdly reminded of a life that seems so far out of reach. It’s one that I can see, but not one that – at this moment – I can touch.

 

One that includes a home with more than 5 rooms – more than just the essentials like a living room and kitchen – a home with my own special space. A room where I can explore my passions and collect my thoughts. A room I can sneak away to when I just need a few minutes to myself.

But alas, that day is not today. I hear the rustling of awakened bodies, the quiet hum of the television, and the murmur of little voices.

I’m growing hungry, which likely means that, soon, so will they.

 

 

Why Can’t it be Saturday?

I really hate wishing my life away like that, but some days, it’s worse than others.

Like today.

Today, I wish it was Saturday. When I woke up this morning, it even felt like Saturday. Alarm clock started going off, and I just wanted to slap the snooze button and go back to sleep. I got out of bed later than usual, took a longer than necessary shower, and even still, I am not fully ready to head off to work. Mentally or physically. My brain just hasn’t wrapped around the fact that I can’t go back to sleep, or at the very least, do something more productive than go to work. Because, to me, that is the least productive thing I could do with my life. Though, on the one hand, I make some money that is helpful in maintaining the life I lead. Keeps the roof over my family’s head and food in our bellies. But that’s it. There is nothing mentally fulfilling about my job. It’s just a job. Not a career that I love. I hate it, to be honest. The only thing I even remotely enjoy is the ability to use my creativity for the newsletter. But, as they say, ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Can’t just quit work in hopes I find something I enjoy. So, I press on and keep looking.

Also, there are just so many things I wish I could be doing. After this week, I have really gotten the notion to start sorting my belongings in preparation for a garage sale. While I can do that on a week night, it tends to take up a lot of time. This is really an activity that is much better suited for the weekend, that’s for sure. A night when I don’t have to go to work the next day, so, working until the early evening isn’t really that disadvantageous. Hence why I would rather not be going to work today.

I’m sure I could think of a lot more reasons why I don’t want to go to work, or what I would rather be doing, but I won’t bore you with the repetitive details. Goodness knows, it doesn’t usually change. But one day, it will.

 

Productive yet relaxing Saturday

Talk about an oxymoron.

Generally, my idea of a productive Saturday is anything but relaxing. It usually consists of me running around town all day and only getting to relax once my children have resigned to their specified locations for the evening.

Today, however, has been different.

I have been fortunate enough to experience both, and while my children are around no less.

I don’t mean that in a bad way, but I’ve noticed that ever since my children entered the preteen ages, life has become more chaotic and disorderly. In addition to their raging hormones and increased moodiness, their schedules keep me constantly running. Or so it seems anyway. We always have soccer games, birthday parties, or some other family function to participate in that prevents me from being able to sit at home for any length of time.

Although today has included many of those same qualities, it has only been for a portion of the day, rather than all of it.

To be fair, there are actually a couple of errands I chose to omit from my day in order to afford myself some extra relaxation time as well as writing time, so I suppose I shouldn’t be too proud of myself for all that I’ve managed to accomplish. Similarly, it seems I’m always running. Putting off until tomorrow some of the more trivial tasks really won’t hurt anything.

I guess part of the reason I’ve feel so accomplished is because, for once, I’ve managed to enlist the help of my youngest offspring. Of course, I only asked her to undertake chores that would have been hers to complete anyway, but that’s beside the point. That just means I have been incredibly successful at delegating responsibility, that’s all.

I think it also helps that her sister hasn’t been around to cause unnecessary strife. Not that they both aren’t guilty of it, but I’ve noticed I much prefer only having one of the two of my children around at any given point than both of them. Don’t get me wrong, I love them both with all of my heart, and I do not prefer one over the other. Conversely, sometimes having them both around at the same time is a little more than I can take. They pick on one another incessantly and genuinely enjoy causing the other irritation. As a mother, this is quite frustrating.

Why can’t they just get along?

Yes, I’m aware this is a lot to ask, and it’s not like my (older) sister and I were the nicest to one another growing up. Still. I could do without the constant bickering and button pushing.

Good luck with that though.

So, instead, I try to thoroughly appreciate the little time I get every now and then when I only have one of them with me. I don’t necessarily always have something exciting planned, but I make sure to enjoy the decrease in stress and irritation level, even if it only lasts for a little while.