Thursday, July 1, 2010


I take off my socks and I step outside, letting the storm door gently close, as to not wake the babies.  My bare feet touch the cool concrete as they have many days before.  I step on a stone. Figures. That's the kind of day I've had. The breeze hits my face and I breath it in. I needed that. It's been a rough day. I start my walk down our short driveway where I notice the grass growing far too far over the edge of the pavement, to the rocky street where the tiny rocks of the old road jab at the soles of my feet with every step, to the plain mailbox that doesn't quite close all the way without a proper push.  I open the mailbox. I stop for a moment. "How long do you think I can stay out here before the kids wake up?" I chicken out. I grab the mail and quickly move my way back to the house. I shuffle through the papers and envelopes. All junk mail. Good. No bills. Really good. When I reach the porch I re-eveluate being able to stay outside a few minutes longer. I could grab the monitor, I would know if they were awake, or crying, or playing. The peek inside the door shatters all those thoughts. The house is a mess. And if I don't take a few preventative measures now, then it will look as though a tornado tore through the house by the day's end. Today is one of those days. One mess gets cleaned up, two more messes are right in line to take it's place. Vicious circle. Not to mention the guilt. "I have all this time before they wake up. I could achieve so much." And even with the guilt, it doesn't sink in. Blogging calls my name. Projects call my name. Twitter calls my name. And before I know it, the time is gone. The house is still a mess. The baby is up. Nothing is done. And there comes the guilt.  I suppose the mounds of laundry needing to be folded aren't going anywhere. But I don't have any clean socks.

1 comment:

Capital Mom said...

I hear you and I have been there.