Sunday, October 14, 2012

Seven Days Each Week

Image credit:  Flickr

On weekdays, I’m up at 6:00 (-ish).  Gearing up for the day, bleary-eyed and coffee in hand.  I kiss Mark goodbye and he’s off to work in the dark before the kids stir. 

They wake and straggle out to the living room, stuffed animal tucked under an arm, and snuggle up for a morning hug.  I quickly try to finish whatever project is on the screen in my lap. 

Breakfast is made, cereal poured into bowls, toaster loaded and eggs cracked quickly over a frying pan.  They eat and I’m continuing to tinker at the laptop or I’m unloading the dishwasher to fill it again.  There’s laundry calling out for the washer, and I should probably push the dryer button again to touch-up the quickly-wrinkling load from yesterday. 

I answer an e-mail and post a few Facebook comments.  Hit “Publish” on a blog post that I’m not quite happy with, but it’s time anyway. 

We get dressed and ready for the morning, beds made and teeth brushed.  I realize I haven’t actually eaten anything yet, and make a note to grab something later.  It’s time to get Noah to preschool, or maybe all of us to music class or homeschool group. 

There is schoolwork to do and errands to run.  Home for lunch and the oasis of afternoon rest times.  Then there may be dance class or piano lessons.  Dinner to prep and that laundry should really get folded now. 

Mark arrives home and the kids come running.  We sit down to dinner and it’s nearly dark again.  Board games and bath times, then bed for them and we crash on the couch with work stuff and Netflix. 

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On weekends, no alarms are set.  Mark is home, and we all yawn awake and meet in the living room whenever it happens.  iPhones, iPods, and iPads are out and everyone is snuggled up with apps and blankets playing games together, this moment brought to you by Apple. 

I make my way to the kitchen with a new recipe or an old favorite, and soon the house smells like maple and bacon, pumpkin and cinnamon, vanilla and apples.  It’s 9:30 before breakfast is on the table, but nobody minds.  Kids are laughing with syrup-covered faces. 

There are detours on the way to getting dressed for the day:  books, play, projects.  At some point we’re all ready to head out for some slow-paced errands (Saturday) or church (Sunday).  The afternoons are for more playing, more resting, more tinkering.  Saturdays we’ll have dinner out or in with family, Sundays we’re hanging out with our small group or others in our church family.  Both evenings we might fudge bedtime a little bit. 

* * * *

Joy and thankfulness well up among both the fun, focused, fast-paced days of the week; and the free, fluid, family-time weekends.  Each one a gift preparing us for the other.

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