I wake to the sounds of chirping. Noisy blue-jay’s, robins, larks and chickadees. Why don’t they have a clock?! Ugh, 5:00 in the morning and the sun is already coming up too. At least there isn’t the knocking of the woodpecker today. I roll over and try to get back to sleep. It comes, but not well. The rest of it is filled with fitful dreams and restlessness.
6:30 am I finally give up. Though I don’t get up. I scroll through Facebook, pretending I don’t have to be responsible today. But then the kids come in looking for shorts and shirts in the pile of laundry on the floor. Asking me to make them oatmeal and toast. Lately this house has been uninterested in what we call “regular.” The regular cereal that is more healthy for you, as opposed to “special” cereal that is loaded with sugar. “Special” is for the weekends, and we’re all always too happy to have that kind of cereal.
Fine! I’ll get up. I make the breakfasts and head off to the gym. Thankfully DrH goes in an hour later today, my drive to workout is waning fast. He heroically get’s the boys to school on his way to work, while I sweat on the treadmill. When I come home, as I pass the mailbox I think to myself for the umpteenth time that I really should check it. It’s been a while. I step into a house that is empty and silent. I am all too happy to enjoy it until about noon.
Noon-ish time is the magical hour of the day that I start feeling restless. I need to get a job so I don’t accidently die of boredom, but school is almost out, and I know I should wait for the fall. So instead I grab a plate and make some lunch. I look at jobs online while I wait for DrH’s lunch call. We don’t have much to say, but I love hearing the sound of his voice.
I mark some things on the calendar, and accidently smudge the ink. Can’t it dry faster? Some one should come up with that. Well, the type of pen I like and make the ink dry faster. Oh well, I’m used to it. As a southpaw many a word has been smudged in my life.
Oh look! It’s getting time to pick up the kids. Wonder what we should have for dinner. Maybe pancakes. It’s been a while, and I probably don’t have long left of living in a place where REAL maple syrup is native and everywhere. How am I ever going to go back to the fake stuff?! I’m just going to have to hoard it and try to move it all when we move. The fake stuff? I thought it was good when I didn’t know better. Now? It’s for the dogs… a dog named Bob.
This is my story from this prompt given by the Daily Post. What’s yours? I’d love to see what fun stuff you come up with. Maybe if I do a few more posts like this my stories will get more creative. But today’s story reflects my mood, and actually a large part is true. A day in the life of a homemaker, it’s not all glamorous, but I am grateful to get to take care of the munchkins, and see them as they grow up. I wouldn’t change our time together for the world. Or a dog named Bob. 😉