I used to dread Fridays. Used to, meaning, like, um,... a month ago. I did not have an attitude of gratitude at the prospect of Friday. That whole day, stretched taut with each of my children pulling from his and her respective ends of my sanity. What will we DO with all those hours? There aren't enough lunchdates and libraries to get us through, and I have all of these e-mails from my students to answer, and there are only so many Care Bears' throwback episodes a 3 year-old can legally watch on On Demand before she overdoses on the Kool-Aid of Care-a-Lot, and what IF neither of them naps? What THEN?! How will we muddle through until we hear "The Chimes:" that most uplifting sound of Loverpants' keys hitting the floor signaling that he is home once more. But something has changed. It's not a particular tip that I can share, a tear sheet from a designer's notebook. All I can say is that I was granted an extra portion of Friday mercies from Someone and I am thankful. I have this heart knowledge that I need to enjoy my children on Fridays. I lose my expectation of them and uphold my expectation of myself to just enJOY them. Today was no exception. We were, all three of us, sacked at 5:30 p.m. when the Chimes rang. Loverpants asked me later what I was smiling about and I suppose I was just so glad it was Friday.
*** Did some sun salutations and stand-ups.
Spent the morning at Baby Boot Camp. Here's proof!