10 Things in a Divorced Night Owl's Morning

My kids are at their dads' house during the weekends.  On Mondays, after dropping off the girls at school, my ex-husband brings their stuff to my house.

I am a night owl.  Night owls like the night.  Monday mornings are difficult for night owls.  Therefore, greeting my ex-husband on Monday mornings is difficult for me.

10 Point Excerpt of My Week's First Hour:

8:15 a.m.: Wake startled wondering why I didn’t choose to vacuum before going to bed at 3:30 am

8:20 a.m.: Go downstairs to the basement, retrieve dogs from their kennel, and let them outside.

8:22 a.m.: Light incense so that my ex-husband doesn’t realize I allow his kids to live in a house that smells like Chihuahuas.

8:25 a.m.: Girls’ dad pulls into my driveway, I frantically plug in the mini-shop-vac, turn it on, and begin to guide the machine in sucking up dog hair.

8:26 a.m.: He knocks at door, I can’t hear him due to the vacuuming.

8:27 a.m.: He knocks at window, it startles me, I jump and throw the hose of the vacuum down to the floor.

8:27:30 a.m.: I go to the door, open it, and he says, “Boy, you’re up early getting things done!”  He means this sincerely.  He really thinks I’ve been up cleaning.  He begins to tell me about the weekend and updates me on the schedule.  I nod, smile, and pretend like I understand what he's talking about.  I try not to think about the pile of dog hair in which I'm standing, or the fact I that I probably smell because I've had the same clothes on since Saturday morning.

8:35 a.m.: After dragging suitcases, bags, a clarinet, and softball equipment back to the girls' rooms, I go to the bathroom and relieve myself after holding it since 8:15 am.

8:37 am: I go to the refrigerator, grab a Monster Absolutely Zero, and head out back to sit with the dogs.

9:00 a.m.: I come inside, locate laptop, take it to the kitchen table and begin writing Monday Listicles.  (Do you really think I do this ahead of time?)

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Murky Monday

Mondays are typically awkward for the mere fact that weekends are too short.  I just get used to a more free-form schedule and the alarm goes off. 6:00 a.m. “What day is it?”  Oh yes, the murkiness that infiltrates my brain signifies it is Monday. Back to the rigid schedule. Up early to support children in their efforts to independently get ready for school.  The daze and confusion usually dissipates by the time they get out the door on their way to school.

I have worked persistently at encouraging them to do for themselves what they can.  Of course, Dr. Maria Montessori was correct when she said, “Never help a child with a task at which he feels he can succeed.”  This includes supporting them in doing the stuff in the morning routine on their own.  I always get up with them.  A parent’s presence is very impactful to the child.  But I will not do things they can do for themselves.

Except for today.  They have had sore throats and ear aches for a week.  Today they crawled out of their beds looking like they belonged back in their beds.  I brought Antonia her breakfast to her in bed.  Assured Sophia that if she can’t get through theater rehearsal, it would not be the end of the world.  I emailed the director of the musical explaining the sickness and asked what Sophia should do.  Sophia seemed relieved by this.  She also seemed relieved when I said I would make her a doctor’s appointment and get her out of school to attend.  Antonia is going, too.  They both WANT to see the doctor which makes me wonder if I should have taken them last week.

I had big plans for today.  Integrating new tools for organizing the week so that we operate more smoothly around here.  But, as it turns out, it will be somewhat normal today.  Taking it as it comes or flying by the seat of my pants. 

Tomorrow I’ll let go of the old clichés.  Possibly while the girls are home getting well.  And without the murky Monday brain.