Friday, March 26, 2010
Face it: At some point you will have to get dressed. Y'know, in like, actual clothes.
I used to walk my kids to school in my jammies. I'd put a snowsuit on over top, drop them off at the front, trudge back home and then fall back into bed. Then it wasn't snowsuit weather anymore and I felt compelled to put on clothes. I wonder why I bothered. Would the othermothers' opinion of me changed?
You know what? I've even gone out to the barn in the morning with my jammies on under my coveralls. That's pretty bad. I'd get back into bed and fall into a very disturbed sleep, the thought of microscopic particles of barn dirt clinging to the collar of my flannel PJ shirt and crawling all over my pillow.
Bed can be irresistible. But I'm not good at sleeping. I seem to need to be in there for eight hours just to get five or six hours sleep.
Pretty much every morning for the last two months I've wanted to either stay in bed or get back in.
One of the interesting changes brought on by my new farm life is the morning routine. I get up and change into my clothes right away. I know I have to get in the truck and drive the kids across the highway to the bus stop. I guess I could stay in my jammies. But then I'd be right back to lying in bed wondering if there's anything worse than dog hair stuck to my flannel pants from the truck seat.
Reluctantly I drag myself into the world of the living and get on with it. By the time I've let the horses out and given them hay, then taken the Pug for his morning scamper around the yard, I'm pretty much awake. There's really no point in going to all the bother of getting back into the flannel PJs and snoozing in my room. So, I deal with it.
Something strange and wonderful can happen. I can wake up. I mean, really wake up.
Today I spent the morning with the dog and a 5 gallon pail, picking up bits of litter the snow had been hiding for a few months. I dug up a few more useless items lurking in the yard; broken weed whackers, a bent desk chair banished from the garage for being tilted, a couple of rad shrouds that will never again shroud a rad. I threw 'em all in the truck box along with the garage and barn garbage. After lunch, I headed off to the dump. Buh-bye useless crap.
I felt so invigorated and lightened up that I stopped by the car wash on the way home. I spent a couple of toonies on a vacuum, then a few more on a good scrub.
After school the kids and I did some cleanup in the barnyard.
I cooked supper. Okay I heated up some stuff - let's say it counts.
I washed every dish.
The barn clothes were swishing around in the machine in the cellar.
I folded the clean stuff.
I saved a plate for my mom when she got home from work.
At chore time I picked out the horses' hooves and gave them each a nice forehead scratch before tucking them into the open shed for the night.
When I got back into my red flannel jammies with the dog bones and paw prints, I had my hot chocolate, a kid at each side and a Pug at my feet.
Delicious. Satisfactory. Earned.
I'd like every day to start and end this way.