In one week schedules will change, and our schedules will be the most aligned since before I started working outside the home (for like a real paycheck and stuff). I am thrilled and terrified. The last time my husband worked days, I felt like we squandered it. We weren’t thoughtful and spent it, like we do now with these split shifts, catching up.
Everyone has their own normal to deal with. Some people have so called easy kids and harder familial issues or budgets. Some people have children with health problems and super supportive spouses. Some people have to deal with the crap in their own heads which becomes an obstacle for success in so many ways.
Our normal is genderfied roles (whether we like it or not), the inability to properly train our now six year old to do chores, and backwards schedules. My husbands weekend ended as mine began, for so long, and now we will have ONE overlapping day, and evening meals together, every day of the week.
No more will family nap time be something we can count on, though. And, in this family of introverts, it’s the most restful, restorative quiet time one can ask for.
We started last week pretty good. Right now, there is time to get the uniforms, lunches, and clothes ready for Monday. But, I haven’t set the full menu – my brain lacks the creativity at the moment. I have the shell, it’s just waiting to be filled in. I doubt I will every be consistent like Fly Lady suggests with leaving the kitchen shiny the night before. It is what it is, and the day starts, and traffic, and co-workers, and chatter exhaust me and all I want to do is read and write. (Kind of like right now.) Needing quiet doesn’t give one the necessary motivation to put the wheels in motion for a good week, though. Oh the conflict and balance abounds.
And, this is why I write. This is why I call it a balancing act. On one hand in slivers of views, to some, I know they think I have my act together. And in others, like this, while I look at all the undone things, I feel like failure unable to do it all. Gimpy feet, chores, laundry, divisions of labor, all meshing together in one gobbly-gooky mess, and we march on, hoping the next day will be as good or better than the last.
Good luck friends at this Monday morning. I hope we can all get our collective-shit together and have a fantastic day.