Slogging Saturday

Saturday - my day to sleep in. My kids joke about what that means for me. "Yea, Mom. What are you going to do, get up at 8am instead of 6?" I admit I have always been a morning person. But lately, getting up has become more and more difficult. I do wake at 6, but I go to the bathroom, then slide back between the sheets. I toss and turn, doze and wake, adjust the heat, get a drink, and finally turn the light on and read a bit. I am resting. Really.

Finally I can take it no longer. I want to stay in bed, but I can't. Its 9am, and I begin cleaning up last night's dishes and mess. At 10 I make Drew get up. He grudgingly complies, doing each little chore at lightning slowness. I swan, a turtle would make better progress. But I don't complain, even though most of the clutter is his. At least he is here helping.

I hurry to finish the cleaning part so I can get to the bank before it closes. I need quarters for laundry. I can't possibly go with out clean clothes a minute longer. It feels like I am working with weights tied on everywhere. Slow. Slow. Time flies, but I can manage no more than a crawling pace. I feel as if I am slogging through the proverbial molasses.

I have a list of things I need to accomplish before I run out of energy. I can feel it draining away, and my list is still long. I urge Drew to move faster. I keep on him to not sit, not watch TV, not listen to music, not play, not make any more messes.

How can he understand how urgent it is to get everything finished before I collapse? How can I make him understand that if this biopsy takes me down a difficult road, I do not want to be embarrassed by the state of my house. Things need to be taken care of while I still can. (I got caught that way last time repeatedly). But of course, I cannot expect him to understand. He is only 13. He is also a boy. I tear the bottom half of my list off. It will just have to get done another day. There are only two more things on the list. I think I can manage those.

Its been a steady whittling pace. I did get a lot done. Tomorrow I will try again. Better yet, I will ask God to help me. In the grand scheme of things, if the house is not squeaky clean, it will not matter. I will live. Drew will be happy. I let it go and sit down to rest while he goes off to find his friend.