the sixteenth day

I didn't post this on Tuesday because I thought it was too pitiful. But I just reread it and it made me laugh. So here it is: Becca and her terrible-no-good-very-bad-Monday. 

Monday night at dinner Rory sat down and asked me very honestly, "Can you think of an equation that ranks the swath maps based on coverage area and hail size?" I looked back at him and said, "Just an hour ago I realized that today isn't actually Tuesday. It's Monday."

I think that little exchange perfectly sums up our life lately. Rory is running circles around me and is so productive and is accomplishing so much. He's overseeing this entire barn project (which is a big project...it's a big barn!) and is in his peak crazy-busy season for his weather software (storm season) often not coming to bed until after midnight when he finishes his work for the day. He has taken over the honey bee operation this spring, driving an hour to purchase two new hives and starting two other hives from the bees of a friend and mail ordering for two queens to add to the boxes. He literally picked up the queens at the post office this morning.  He has planted our garden, sprayed our apple trees, reseeded our field and never seems to stop.

It's so hard when my days would never be described as productive, and often little has been accomplished that could ever be measured. Monday I threw myself such a fine pity party. This one was a dandy. I was so sorry for myself. This pity party had a motherhood theme, the one where it feels like nothing ever gets done because everything is always undone the second it's done. Even yesterday I actually finished the laundry, every last sock folded and put away, only to have Elsie flood the bathroom (waterfall over the counter onto the floor below) so that I had to take all my newly folded towels, clean up the mess as fast as I could and then...put them in the washer to make another load of laundry. I could have cried.

I would say I can usually keep my perspective, head above water, remembering my bigger mission in this awesome and holy calling of motherhood.  I probably keep my perspective fifteen out of every sixteen days. But it's that sixteenth day that I just want to hire a maid, laundry service, chef and nanny and run for the hills. Or stop midday, give up and make chocolate chip cookies and get out a new book.

Anyway, Tuesday the sun was out and I woke up completely reset. I was excited because I was confident that it really was Tuesday that day and that I had a whole new day to try my Tuesday all over again. I took a long shower first thing, made myself some coffee and took care of some correspondence long overdue. I had a friend over during nap time. And mostly I just woke up with my right mind. I know all the right answers to this productivity dilemma: I am growing a baby in me, which is quite productive, I am raising kids, keeping a house, keeping a family fed and I know it all counts. I'm just saying that about every sixteen days I'm ready for a day off...