Manic Monday

I hate Mondays. Regardless of whether I have to work or stay home with the kids, I hate Mondays. For some reason this specific day of the week gives me the roughest time. It's not even like Monday signals the start of the week for me. My days just kind of flow with no set work schedule and now no school schedule, Monday don't mean jack.

Apparently Mondays signal something for my kids though. It means that they are to get up earlier, grumpier and poopier than usual. They are then to act like animals that have been caged all week and then released into my kitchen. They run from one end of the house to the other yelling and hollering and acting like psychiatric patients.

I usually have a headache but 10 am on Mondays that doesn't leave until Tuesday. I try to get out of the house every Monday. Mainly so that my house may remain standing and not crumble to the chaos going on inside it. This is fine except that it requires herding the 3 wild animals that have been unleashed into my home. It's hard to dress them when I can't even catch them.

Mondays are the days that it is most likely to find oatmeal on the ceiling fan and toast stuck to the bottom of the table. The day that someone is most likely to remove their own diaper and the toothpaste will "slip" off the toothbrush. Mondays are the day of lost hats and missing shoes. I don't know where they went, perhaps Sunday swallowed them.

Mondays require twice as much preparation than any other day of the week. I know that I will be chasing the boys for twice as long to eat, get dressed, brush their teeth and get ready to go so I therefore plan to get up much earlier. (I say PLAN because sometime the plan is foiled by the snooze button). I set out clothes the night before and try to have bags and backpacks packed ahead of time to cut down on time but we are almost always late anyways.

I hate Mondays and today was no different than the rest. I'm so glad that it will be yesterday in less than a half an hour. Goodbye Monday I'll wrestle with you next week.