Two day ago, I planned a party for more than 150 people at a beautiful antique Belgian circus tent in downtown Seattle. I welcomed a wide variety of guests, from elementary school teachers to state senators, and the evening was a resounding success. From Thursday to Monday, I ran on a steady stream of espresso and adrenaline, and now...
Now, I am exhausted.
Today is my first full day back in mom-mode; and, while it feels really good to make three healthy meals, and spend time on the floor playing trains with my boys, I cannot motivate myself to do much more than that.
Actually, that's not true. At night, after the kids are in bed, I can motivate myself to open the bottle of Pinot Noir and pour myself a glass, then toss a few dark chocolate M&Ms into a bowl and head downstairs to sit in front of the television. I have even folded a piece of laundry or two.
But here's the thing: The CDR comes home one week from Saturday, and there are so many things that I intended to do around the house while he was gone. There are so many pounds still taking up contended residence in my midsection that I meant to lose while he was gone. There are so many errands that I planned to run while he was gone.
And now, when push is coming dangerously close to shove, I still can't get myself motivated to prepare for his return.
Sometimes I feel guilty about that. I am, after all, a Type-A, detail-oriented perfectionist with a fairly strong record for meeting deadlines. And I really like making people happy.
Other times, I think, "Hey! I've held down a part-time job, cared for two small children and a dog, and kept a somewhat orderly house. I think that's pretty darn good!" Have I mentioned I'm also lazy and fairly indifferent about clutter and mess?
I think the truth of the matter lies somewhere in the middle. My house does not have to be all Martha-Stewart-perfect for the CDR's homecoming, but I should at least clean up the dirty dishes and change the sheets on our bed. The kids and I do not have to be perfectly groomed and dressed, but I should probably give the kids a bath and shave my legs the night before he comes home. And, at least for the duration of this afternoon's naptime, I'll catch up on General Hospital while I put my abdominal muscles to work.