November 03, 2006


It was a bad one today. [Waves at visiting Scribblers.]

I had a meeting that meant I needed to be out the door by about 7:10am. There's construction on S. Middlebush (AGAIN) that makes it hard to predict how long my ride in will take. D doesn't like having such a short amount of time with me in the morning, and I don't much like it either. Today, he burst into tears as I got ready to go. End of the week, not enough sleep, nothing in reserve. He's only five.

Meanwhile, my partner's been on the road for much of the week and was similarly cashed in this morning.

Not to mention the fact that we've asked someone to come in and help with our cleaning today, which means – you know this – a bunch of late-night running around putting toys where they belong so we'll be able to find them, post-cleaning.

This morning we figured out that we're out of Soft Scrub (cue ominous urgent background music).

Tomorrow morning will be better. D will sleep as long as he pleases and then call to me. I'll scoop him up and bring him into the bathroom and remind him it's Saturday. He'll ask to stay in his jammies for breakfast and playing and I'll say yes. We might go for a challah run. T will sleep as long as she likes while we luxuriate in our newly neatened playspace and figure out which animals to be. Breakfast will happen when our stomachs will no longer take "no" for an answer, and I'll actually have time to do a little reading. Then maybe a trip to the post office to mail some goodies off to friends, as the town fills up with football fans preparing for the big home game. And everywhere, the trees aflame with color.

I know that living in the present is a worthy goal, but sometimes the looking forward is just too good to pass up.

(Thanks to the good women of Sunday Scribblings
for their continuing inspiration.)


Ally Bean said...

I love this. Your last line is so true. Happy Saturday!

Anonymous said...

I love the line about deciding which animals to be - and I hope that your morning turns out exactly like this.