....or Rather "NOT" a Manic Monday!

Seriously, is there anything better than a holiday Monday?
Seriously, isn't coffee all the better when it is hot.   And you can sit to drink it.  *sigh*

Today, I don't have to rush around getting everyone fed, clothed and out the door.   Rushing all 3 just to get Monkey Boy to the bus on time.   I don't have to take Angel Girl to her program.   Bring Zoo Zoo back for a spell, then dress her again to go fetch her sister back home.

The Monday Morning Mama Mantra:
"have you got your lunch?  library books in your backpack?  I don't know where you backpack is....find it.   and homework? spare socks?. No?  Go get them...hurry up.  No, stop - get back - the bus is coming.  Angel Girl....don't run across the road! Zoo Zoo - get that out of your mouth!  What is that anyway?   Okay, hugs and kisses everybody!  Have a good day at school."  

There is no greater force than a mom in a hurry.    No sandstorm so fierce that e'er swept everything up in it's path, tossing discarded bits of life about like tumbleweeds across barren plains.   Organized chaos? Today, when everything is calmer, slower, I wonder what it must be like to be swept up in that windstorm.   If I find it stressful and "stop in your tracks unable to think or move" overwhelming; what must it be like for these little ones trailing behind me?  blinded, lost by the blowing sands, suffocating in my dust trail.  I wonder how I can make the trail less windy, less dusty....just.....less.    But our world is so busy.  So everything. right.now.

So we grab hold of days like this.  When breakfast can be 7, or 8, maybe even 9 am.   Today, they are enjoying TV before breakfast; a Veggie Tales movie.   Laughing at the idea of a zuchinni Pirate.   Or maybe it's the idea of a broken rule making the morning all the more special.  These little moments: they burst with promise and hope.  The sun finally sharing its warmth on a muddy, wagon- wheel rutted,  broken trail.  Giving weary, dirt and dust caked travellers some respite.   A shiny glimpse of the promise land in the near distance.  You're. Almost.There.

Can life be any other way?  How do you stop and smell the flowers, when the convoy of life moves so fast.   When there is always just so much to do, and your wheels get bogged down in the ruts of life: and there you remain with your heavy burden.   I wonder also what would our ancestors think of our busy lives today?  How we push ourselves farther, faster.... to where?  For what?  Leaving what lost behind on the winding road? 

My reality is thus:  even as I have tried to steal a few moments this morning to write this post, a hundred little interruptions have ensnared me.  The sounds of "mama, mama" drowning out the words I envision in my head.   Sticky baby fingers attempt to pull me (and the keyboard keys) away.  Concentration is lost.  Mommy.Is.Busy.   She's not with us.   And even on this supposed relaxing Monday holiday, I am still bogged down in that rut, struggling to find some time in the day to carve out as my own....

......and yet, ensure this precious cargo entrusted to me, is not lost somewhere along the journey.