Where Does All the Time Go?

No, this is not a complaint about daylight savings time. At least, I don’t think it is. I am just wondering how weekends can be so short, and so jam-packed that they feel like there is never enough time to get anything done. I am going to take a moment to reflect on what I did.

On Saturday, while my son was away at archery camp, my husband did the grocery shopping while I got some extra sleep. This was a good idea, because I finally started feeling better for a change. Then we did some cleaning of the dead zone corner of the dining room, which appears to be where the kiddo just drops whatever is in his hands and wanders off. It was quite terrifying, but eventually, we got everything thrown away, put away, and swept away, and lo and behold! – there was actual floor under there.

The cats, thwarted in every attempt to assist us by stealing things and taking them away from the sorted piles or bringing us new things that we might want to sweep, have not yet forgiven us for clearing the floor. They keep searching for all of the missing, exciting playthings that they had helped Miles stash. Mysteriously, although they are systematically demolishing my beautiful giant LEGO Hogwarts castle, which sits nearby, none of the missing castle pieces were found in the floor rubble. Where are they hiding them? And how does a cat make off with a large castle turret anyway?

I digress. After much excitement over getting the corner clear so we could sweep like normal people and walk all the way around the dining room table, we went out to lunch. We ate at a neighborhood place that has been there for over 100 years, and has been a favorite of ours from all the way back in our college years, which were in the distant past of the 20th century. Then we went to the nearby yarn shop for a look around during the annual yarn crawl weekend. I had not been to the yarn crawl in person since 2020, when it was the weekend just before the world shut down. Due to my asthma and the fact that I have been getting sick and/or injured nearly all the time (covid three times in 2023, along with strep, some various respiratory things, a crushed foot at school, a twice-broken toe, a dislocated knee and random sciatica), I haven’t been out much, and kind of missed the whole transition to “What pandemic? Nothing wrong here” mode. It was amazing to be doing normal things like a real live person again. Eventually, we made it through the crowds and lines, I bought some yarn, and then we retrieved the kiddo and shot back home. I read my book, checked in with my sister about some parental health issues, talked to my mom, talked to my dad, had a panic attack, scanned my son’s teeth for the orthodontist, and so on and so forth.

In the middle of the night, there were cries about nightmares and a lot of calming to do.

Today, I decided to actually do my knitting which I was going to do yesterday. I got a rhythm going, then enjoyed myself, felt like I made progress (and learned a new stitch!), then had to stop for lunch. Then I had my mom hat on again. Update the orthodontia based on the scan results. Get that homework done. Talk through the end of term projects and anything that still needs to be done to get them finished on time. Remind about the neurologist appointment tomorrow and the special reward lunch on Tuesday. Sort through meal ideas and options for timing with my husband. Review his schedule and mine and who gets the child where for the next couple of weeks. (Spoilers: Yikes!) Then, finally, knot settling in my stomach, I turn to work. Add the zeroes for missing work, figure out if I have the actual time to send parent letters regarding the missing work (no) and whether or not I really should (yes), work out the plans for next week, but not get them into the learning module yet, try to sort out the mismatch between the length of the rest of the year (not nearly enough) and the things I still need to teach (way too much), and…

I stopped a took a lot of deep breaths.

Then a few more.

Having lost my blissful feeling of having a relaxing weekend during which I enjoyed myself instead of worry-working, I had to dive right back into it. Mid-quarter updated grades were supposed to be posted on Friday and I did not do it because I did not feel well. But they still had to be done, which meant finishing up the grading on the half graded stacks of assignments first.

Suddenly, it was time for dinner.

Then back to my mom hat. Yes, you need to take a bath. No, the cat is not lost. She is sitting by the fence watching the evening gnats. No, she is not hurt. I know you can’t see her. That’s because she is a black cat in the dark. No, I will not go get her. No, you cannot go get her; you need to take a bath.

Oh, look, you got the cat.

Still, he has not taken a bath. With an epileptic child, bathing is a complicated thing. He cannot be left alone in the bathtub or shower because there is a real risk of drowning should he have a seizure. Even though he only has “partial seizures”, he still becomes unresponsive and limp. But my son is 13 and does not need or want someone to watch him shower, so we worked out a system. We will stand outside the bathroom door and yell, “ONE!!!!” at short intervals. Very short intervals if we cannot hear him splashing around and moving. If he is okay, he yells back, “TWO!!!” Originally, he told me that he would yell two if he was fine and three if he was not, but then gradually the penny dropped and he realized why that wouldn’t work. At any rate, it means that bath time runs through all of my hoarded mom patience and takes about three thousand hours every night. Then there is the gamut of “no, you didn’t brush your teeth,” “yes, you must use toothpaste,” “scrub those aligners before you put them back in” and the ever popular “did you put in your rubber bands?” Throw in an assorted package of ADHD induced diversions and delays, and now we have hit bedtime, with no one ready.

I am trying to write my blog with half an hour left to go. I still have 32 paragraphs to grade, and then I have to get the grades in the computer. My “did not do it, but it still has to be done and is probably-possibly urgent” list is growing and growing. I am out of time, out of weekend, out of steam, and need three more days off to get back to resting and relaxing and not worry-working.

But no.

It’s Sunday night.

Tomorrow, the wheel turns again.