This is a confession, of sorts, where I tell you (out loud! in writing!) that I am guilty of valuing my to-do list over my people, the ones for whom I do all the things.
This is where I tell you that all too often, I am more concerned about how much I can get done and how many baskets of laundry I still have to fold than I am about how anyone else is feeling.
This is where I tell you that I came home from the funeral and spending time with family and dove headfirst back into school, my long-and-lengthening to-do list, all the things that happened while I was away, and all the things that didn't happen but should have.
I've said, "Sssh!" and "Just a minute, okay?" and "I'll be right with you," and "One moment, please!" and "Oh, for heaven's sake, can't you give me just a second to finish this?!" and "JUST GO OUTSIDE!!!" way too many times in the last few days.
Also, no one is sleeping.
These things together have made for a climate around here that is grumpy (at best) and toxic (at worst).
After my third consecutive night of seeing every hour on the clock while tending to one waking child or another (but usually just the one...I'm looking at you, Felix!), I've decided that today needs to be different.
It's a matter of survival...and survival is my responsibility. I'm the only one who can do something to fix this.
So, in the interest of surviving, today I am scrapping my list. I'm canceling our plans. I'm frying bacon in my pajamas, making extra coffee, and letting the kids do all the things I usually say "no" to when I'm trying to get something else done.
Today, I'm only going to do the fun stuff. We're probably using paper plates. They might stay in their jammies all day long.
I'm not going to get anything done.
It's still going to be a good day.