Getting back into the swing of things
I begin my day at approximately the same time every day, with 6:30 a.m. being a late start. Coffee, if I feel like it, a few minutes of Scripture and prayer, an email check and then chores begin. I like my schedule. And while I love summer, it often throws a kink into my schedule. Summer, while a celebrated time of togetherness, often is an unplanned jumble of work and activities with no parameters around anything. It can be overwhelming.
The new school year is already a week old, and I hope I am not alone in saying I am often relieved when it starts back up. It is certainly not because I dislike my kids being at home, but mostly because of the routine the school year establishes.
Everyone gets up, kids leave for school, hubby and I work at home or away depending on the day, and we all meet back up for dinner. Following dinner is homework, chores and then free time until bed. It is simple and easy to understand.
But the first few weeks of routine seem hard for my kids to get back into. Summer bedtimes are much more lax (as are wake-up times) and when home, they have all day to complete a short list of chores. This leaves them far more free time than the school day allows. I often shut down the wi-fi every few days during the first weeks of school until they get their tasks done. It is my little way of reminding them of their priorities.
To their credit, they are pretty good about most things. But there is a short list of items that drive me nearly over the edge after repeating them for decades. Taking your plate out of the living room if you have had a snack in there is a good example. Drives me crazy. Or picking up your bath towel off the floor and hanging it to dry. Or, push your chair in when you leave the table so we can walk around the dining room without stubbing toes. That one is tricky.
I suppose we all had our quirks that drove our mothers crazy. I wonder if I left my shoes wherever I felt like kicking them off, or if my mom found socks everywhere, literally everywhere, she looked?
Did my sisters leave their hairbrushes on the shower floor after they were finished in there? Did my brother refuse to put away the clean laundry she had washed and folded instead of piling it on his dresser?
I suppose I will have to wait for them to grow into caring about some of these things. Someday, when it is their responsibility to run a household and they realize how few hours are actually in each day, perhaps they will learn to minimize repetitious work. Perhaps they will learn to love a schedule and the routine it drives like I do.
Until then, I will enjoy my 6:30 coffee, my Scripture and prayer time and my quiet email check. And at least for the foreseeable future, I will keep “pick up towels and socks” on my daily chore list.