the season for other things

We are almost done with the fourth week of the school year.

Four weeks.

It’s been a month since I went back with the rest of the teachers and my boys started daycare full time.

You would think I would have a handle on our new routine by now, but instead of maintaining the status quo, I am frantically trying to be ready for just the next day.  Ready for next week Wednesday?  Pfft. I don’t even know what that day holds. Right now I can only tell you what I am doing tomorrow…and what I need to get into work early to get ready for tomorrow.

All I know is that I have copies to make in the morning.

I don’t even know if that last paragraph makes any sense.

My day starts as soon as the alarm goes off at 5:15am (assuming it didn’t start earlier with a wake-up cry–or three–from a child) and is nonstop until sometime after Eddie is tucked in bed.

I only have time to peek in at twitter and facebook on my lunch.

I check in here (if I even had a chance the day before to post) 2 or 3 times all day–not exactly time to “promote” anything.

Once I walk through the door with both boys, most nights I am on my own for getting the day put away, dinner in the boys’ tummies (and mine if I am lucky), bathes, jammies, and bed time.  If I am lucky, Cort gets home from class a wee bit early to relieve me from sleeping in Eddie’s bed story time with Eddie.

Today I realized that I only peed three times by 7:30 at night…and I had a LOT to drink today. No wonder I am getting kidney stones.

Things are shaking around here…just not the blog.

By the time I sit down in my chair with everything ready for the next day and crack open  my laptop, I usually just stare as twitter zooms by and facebook refreshes.

All the words in my brain are gone.

The most frustrating part? As soon as I lie down to sleep, the will start whirring around…collecting themselves into partial blog posts, letters to my boys, and poems about my life and experiences.

Somewhere between dusk and dawn, the words soak into my pillow and disappear.

Except from five years of writing it all down, I know that they haven’t really disappeared.

They are tucked safely under my pillow until I get a handle on things…which I will, because every year I do.

Then the words will sneak back.  They will crawl back in my head and whiz around behind my eyes demanding that I get them out and onto this blog.

But for now, I choose work over my blog.

I choose my boys over my blog.

I choose peeing over my blog.

And I choose sleep over my blog.

And that is all Ok.

It’s the season for other things right now.

At least most days.

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