Every Sunday people around the globe dread Monday. I hate the idea of having to get up early again or taxiing kids around for the week. However, on the weekend I run from the kids. By that I don't (usually) mean run and hide. I mean I try to keep the house semi livable without tripping over kids.
During the week I have 1 home half the day and add 1 the other half, until the rest get home from school. That isn't enough to be underfoot so I stick to my cleaning "schedule". Yes, I have a schedule, but that's a whole other post. When there are 6 kids (or more) in the family room I don't even attempt to clean around them. I clean the living room instead. When they make their way to the living room to read, i clean the kitchen instead. When they make their way to the kitchen for a snack, I clean the dining room instead. And forget cleaning the main floor bathroom while there are that many people in the house, someone always has to use it. I feel like my day is spent being chased into different rooms.
Therefore I spend my weekends only getting by in the house. Instead I do laundry, clean up the yard, clean out the car, clean upstairs, etc. By Sunday my house is looking quite cluttered. Sunday I start to look forward to the catching up I can do on Monday. Yes, a part of me looks forward to a Monday.
When I wake up Monday and start to plan my day, I am soon reminded that my daughter has therapy smack in the middle of my day. This isn't a new thing, she's had it at the same day/time for a year. I guess in all the "excitement" to clean, it just slipped my mind. That only gives me the morning because right before therapy 1 gets off the bus and right afterwards I pick up 2 more.
My Monday afternoons are spent with toddlers who only napped in the car and kids that are tired from a long day back at school. This particular Monday was also spent juggling bedtimes alone since hubby flew out early that morning. Maybe I'll catch up on housework Tuesday.