We have small group on Sunday evenings. We meet with several friends and lead a discussion about the Big Idea, the topic our church covered that morning. Because we love our friends in small group, it’s always hard to make ourselves leave at a decent time, but even a decent time means a late dinner.
And now that school has started, it means a late dinner AND a late bedtime for a cranky kid.
Add to that a headache and a here-we-go-again argument with your husband, and you have the formula for a lousy Sunday night and not-much-better Monday morning.
We adore our church and love being involved (and our Sunday night small group is truly one of the very best parts of our week!), but it does make for short Sundays. And the few hours Mark is awake and alert on Saturdays are precious, because his night shift means our family time is always at a premium.
So grocery shopping on the weekends simply never happens – nor does finishing laundry and picking out clothes for each day of the kindergarten week or prepping items for lunches for each day of the kindergarten week.
Despite my best intentions.
Despite my complete understanding that these two tasks would make my Monday (and Tuesday and every other day of the week) more pleasant and efficient.
Despite my burning desire to be the kind of mom who wakes up early to scramble eggs and read her Bible on Monday morning, rather than the kind of mom who stumbles out of bed late because her daughter slept in, too, and then proceeds to run by the drugstore IN HER PAJAMAS THAT DON’T EVEN MATCH to buy a Lunchable and a bag of little chocolate donuts.
Because kid’s got to eat, whether I’ve been to the grocery store or not.
Not every day is like this, thankfully. And when I say pajamas that don’t match, I promise you that a) I put on a bra and b) I meant black yoga pants and black t-shirt in different shades of black. I’m not actually a public nuisance with flannel plaid and cotton stripes or something.
And while I didn’t technically brush my hair, I did make sure both my child and I brushed our teeth before heading out the door to face the week and the world.
But like I said, not every day is like this one. In fact, once I get myself into the shower, the rest of today won’t even be like this morning. I hope.
Some days, though. Some days are just FULL of the keepin’-it-real real life that we don’t stage for Pinterest pictures. Some days are simply overflowing with the less-than-beautiful messy reality that no Instagram filter can prettify.
I feel like I’ve had a long string of those days, starting with the night I made tacos from spoiled ground beef and served them to my family.
That was last Wednesday, and don’t worry. I’m the only one who took a full bite before realizing that our dinner – and all the ingredients we’d piled onto our taco salads – was beyond salvaging. McDonald’s, here we come.
Thursday morning brought a kitchen full of dirty dishes and a 10:00 conference call about – of all things – how cleaning my kitchen changes my life. The irony was ridiculous, and I asked my friend (who was hosting the call) if she’d like to fire me. She assured me that she did not, and I cleaned up my kitchen before the call began.
(After Instagramming the situation first. Because, really.)
And then there was Friday. The day I barely moved off my couch, staying glued to my laptop frantically editing an extremely difficult book and praying I would make my already-moved-back-once deadline of 5 pm. (Spoiler alert: I didn’t.)
Some days, man. SOME DAYS.
It’s late in the day for a fresh start, but sometimes you just have to make do. So I’m going to shower and start over. Just as soon as I eat another little donut…
Ever had one of those days?
Photo by Key Foster