The thought of Tuesdays makes my heart beat faster.
Not in a good way. Not in the I’m-going-to-see-the-guy-I-like way. Not in the good-work-out-today way.
In a bad way.
In the I-can’t-do-Tuesdays-please-rescue-me way.
Tuesdays are no joke. For the past three Tuesdays, I have hit about 11:30 and texted my husband something like this:
Why are Tuesdays so hard?
I cannot do Tuesdays.
I am so sorry this is happening [referring to the meltdown I had that required him to watch the kids on his lunch break so I could escape our house and our kids].
I can ‘make it’ through the morning–the part of the day that is normally easiest with my kids–but when afternoon comes, I am DONE.
I ask again, Why are Tuesdays so hard?
My husband’s theory is that I get caught up on my rest and my sanity over the weekend when he is home being super-helpful. (No sarcasm here; he an amazingly helpful dad and husband.) And so Monday hits when I am rested and prepared. He thinks I spend so much energy and focus making Monday great that
hits me when I’m down
the life from me.
It’s an interesting theory, one that actually gives me hope, but cause it means that somehow, in my repertoire of mom skillz, I have the power to change the face of Tuesday.
Now, I warn you, this is just in the experimental stage, but I am going to try to avert Tuesday’s habitual failing and misery (because it’s miserable) by adjusting my expectations for Monday.
Expectations. They kill my soul when I operate with them as my unrecognized or unacknowledged guides.
I call the kind of thinking has ruled my weeks since I transitioned into full-time stay-at-home mom “ATTACK MONDAY MODE.”
It goes like this:
MAKE MONDAY AMAZING and the rest of the week will be amazing, too.
But what that has turned out to look like is this:
DO A BUNCH OF COOL AND ENERGY-REQUIRING THINGS ON MONDAY, THEN CRASH AND BURN ON TUESDAY. SPEND WEDNESDAY, THURSDAY, AND FRIDAY PICKING UP THE PIECES AND REMEMBERING THAT I AM LOVED BY GOD IN MY FAILURES.
“ATTACK MONDAY MODE” has not really been a good plan.
So, I’m taking a breath
and taking inventory of my expectations.
I’m asking myself these questions:
What is the antidote for my addiction to expectations?
How can I lay hold of grace for Tuesday, my hardest day of the week?
Stay tuned for
answers trial-and-error, prayerful considerations to these questions.
Peace out. And PLEASE, if you have ideas or comments, fire away below.