There is a buffer for me with the kids. I have to cook still, but I don't have to make sure the kids aren't killing each other or climbing into the oven while I'm doing it. It's a beautiful thing, the weekends.
I used to have panic attacks, mild though they were, on Sunday nights. The overwhelming feeling of being out back in the driver's seat would sit on my chest like an elephant. It felt suffocating and I would cling to the vestige of the weekend. My version of that was to stay up late and get no sleep.
It guaranteed that I would be cranky on Monday morning. It guaranteed that I would be short with the kids, that we would rush like crazy and run late.
Coming into this school year, I changed that habit. I have, until last night, made sure that I'm in bed at a reasonable hour. I have started setting two alarms on my phone, to make sure I'm up in time. I've done everything I can to cage the elephant, to bypass that crushing feeling.
I am sure that the lack of sunlight contributed to my flat feeling today. I felt like one of the balls my kids have had-slightly under-inflated, a lack of bounce to it. The headache I ended up with didn't help either.
I went through the motions today. I did everything I should do. I cleaned the house, decluttered, did laundry, read to Bekah, made bread, vacuumed. I exercised. I didn't get to run like I wanted to but I still worked out. Usually this pries me out of my funk but today it didn't. I am better now because Monday is almost over. I am better because I will soon crawl under the covers and say goodbye to the beginning of the week.
Let's talk more tomorrow.
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