This morning I woke up with zero ambition.
Clearly, I needed to take Dolly’s advice from 1981 and tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen, to pour myself a cup of ambition. So… I did… because everything Dolly says is golden and should be followed.
It actually took two cups of hot ambition with some extra cream, as the good Lord intended His coffee beans to be treated, before I was able to get my act together and accept the fact that WE LIVE HERE. Ultimately, this means that the house that was perfectly clean YESTERDAY morning looked like an F5 tornado had hit a dedicated hoarder’s house THIS morning. I don’t know how our turnaround time, from clean to crime scene status, can happen in a matter of hours… but it does.
So, the hot cups of ambition finally worked their magic. I got beds made and dirty dishes cleaned up. I threw sixteen pounds of paper and tape (some call it kindergarten art projects; I call it clutter) into the garbage can. (Don’t even talk to me about recycling the kindergarten art projects, because the recycling truck only comes every two weeks. This means that those PROJECTS will sit there, waiting for that truck, for fourteen days. Fourteen days is plenty o’ time for a six year old to happen upon his ruined masterpiece shoved in the bin and declare you to be the WORST MOTHER SINCE MOMMY DEAREST! I can’t risk this happening, because then we have to rescue the crumpled papers and cardboard pieces and the seventy-four miles of Scotch tape, bring them back to our bedroom, and put them back on display. The garbage, which is taken out DAILY, is the only option.) I started a load of laundry in the washing machine and folded another load of laundry. I scrubbed dried yogurt off the dining room table. I picked Legos up. I picked more Legos up. And then I found four more stashes of Lego piles, and I picked those up.
And then I sat down to make a grocery list, because we are at the point in our lives where I open the fridge and see the bottle of French’s yellow mustard and the cantaloupe half that’s mushy, and wonder what recipe I could make with them. Sadly, by then my ambition had worn back off, and I simply decided that we didn’t actually need dinner tonight, because I couldn’t bring myself to responsibly plan out a menu and list all the ingredients I’d need at the store. However, I can’t put this grocery-fetching task off much longer, because TOMORROW IS THE DAY THE TOILET PAPER WILL BE GONE AT OUR HOUSE. Clearly, that means that tomorrow is the day that I will be forced to get a full cart of groceries and Charmin, because man shall not live without the toilet paper.
After I dropped Thing 2 off at soccer camp this morning, I came home to find the boy dressed in golf slacks and a polo. I was surprised that he was up so early on his day off from the golf course, but he grinned at me and said, “I thought I’d go golf eighteen holes.” Because OF COURSE. If he is not working at the golf course, then the boy is GOLFING at the golf course, or he is sleeping. The end. (And, for the record, his eighteen holes of golf that he said he was going to do turned into twenty-seven holes of golf. We may need a twelve-step program, because I think we may have a golf junkie on our hands.)
So… I started my third novel of the summer, which makes me feel empowered and like a normal human being again. I haven’t been reading lately… and by lately, I mean in the past six years… because there just isn’t TIME to read, when you’re the mother of an active infant / toddler / preschooler / kindergarten graduate. But, I felt like I was on top of my reading game this morning. I managed to read AN ENTIRE CHAPTER, before the laundry bells whistled and then I never did get back to look into chapter two. Soccer camp was over, we went to the park with one of my friend’s and her five-year-old son, and we came home for a lunch of gluten-free corn dogs.
(Let me endorse the gluten-free corn dogs and just say this one thing: THEY. FALL. APART. They’re quite delicious, and Thing 2 is quite smitten with them, but all that gluten in a regular corn dog must hold the breading together, because the ones without the gluten crumble like cracker crumbs and leave you with a naked dog.)
And then… after we had picked up all the Legos again (because that is the story of our lives), we hauled the kiddie pool out of the garage and tossed it onto the deck. Today was our first day without clouds in ages, and filling a little blue plastic pool felt absolutely as American as apple pie and baseball.
You know the ones:
Have a great Thursday, y’all.