I miss the Internet on the weekends. In case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda Australia if we're role-playing and the rest of y'all are always a day behind me.
My weekends do not belong to me and won't for the rest of my natural life. I'm okay with that, but I also figure that pretending the crazy weekend flow doesn't mess with my mojo and eventually someone is bound to call me on my bullshit.
Fridays we have a standing dinner date with friends, which has morphed into an evening arts/crafts/music session for our three combined homeschool kids, led by yours truly. Saturday is hours and hours at the farm for the weekly horsemanship session. )Eliana got too big, too fast for the Caspian we bought last year, and we were lucky enough to be able to trade her right back to the owner for a lease on a fjord named Froya.) Sunday is hours and hours at the other farm for Pony Club. And let's not forget the errands, the seemingly fruitless efforts to keep the house looking like a federal disaster, the blog, the book, the column....
And The child. The Husband. Our lives.
I'm not psychic, but I know I'm the only one freaking out about my mostly social media free weekends.
We are always late and it's accepted as part of my charm. I tam ADHD and operate on Mexican Time. It's okay; you are totally allowed to laugh. I have to admit that being my own punchline keeps things from getting boring.
There is always a blur of Where's My Helmet and We Are SO Going to Bed At A Decent Time Tonight because the intention is always to wake up earlier the next day, like normal people do. It never happens, of course, but I like to think the good intentions behind the groggy morning routine count for something.
When you have a few free bits of time to catch up on social media with the other people who think in 140 like you do and it's like the best water cooler ever, I'm poorly managing all of my time and trying to get myself into a happy place inside my head, because these are all memories I will complain about having passed too quickly instead of wishing them away quicker in the present day because I am eternally behind myself. Every day I loose is one more day added to the twomI'm already behind.
I have accepted my To Do List is more like a rough draft of Suggestions for the Focusly-Disadvantaged.
Eliana has a bike I haven't had time to teach her to ride. our summers are hectic with travel for my work and in between, breathing is a nice thing to do every now and again. plus, I'm afraid. When it's time and I find myself in the Right Now that is, thankfully, not here yet, I'll know when to let go and cheer her on as she struggles to balance herself in her new-found independence. I am terrified of this moment. My anxiety has me convinced I'll never forgive myself if letting go results in a fall instead of glorious flight.