Writing fiction takes a lot more mental energy for me than cataloging my day or detailing something of my past. So, the story is going to have to be a weekly serial. Think of it as a very chic, retro move on my part.
Speaking of mental energy, mine is at low ebb at the moment, given that it's nearly midnight. The plan was that J would take the kids to daycare, I'd go get a steroid shot in my elbow (I'm just now icing it as the Dr. ordered.) and join J at Origins. I stopped to get gas and took advantage of the temperate day and free vacuum at the station as my car had become more of a rolling garbage can than a vehicle. (True story: Upon entering the car this evening, my four year old looked about and said "Mommy, this is a CLEAN car!" Really.)
I finally joined J, had some lunch and played a couple games with friends. Even won one, which is always nice. Then off to get the kids and follow the official Evening Plan that I'd let the kids in on earlier. (Mistake on my part. They don't adjust well to changes in the Plan and it gets difficult to adapt it as needed.)
Step one: Get dinner.
Step two: Go to the gym where they would play and I'd exercise.
Step three: Go home and get into jammies.
Step four: Watch 30 minutes of something on tv, in our jammies, while eating a bedtime snack of popcorn.
Step five: Everyone happily goes to bed.
We pretty much derailed from the get go, as everything takes longer than anticipated, but woe betide the mommy who says, "We really need to skip popcorn and movies because it is soooo late and you should really just go to bed." I could have an hour of howling, screaming, crying protests, time outs and removal of sticker privileges, or I could just let the kids go to bed really late, but happy.
I'm weak. And it will be very hard to get up in the morning. But maybe, just maybe, they'll be reeallly tired tomorrow night and go to bed easy.
One can always hope.