When school let out for the summer, I had a bit of a freak out. I had never had a year home by myself, with both girls in school and me not working outside of the house. It didn’t take me long to decide that I liked it. I could write when it was quiet, clean whenever it suited me, eat whatever I felt like. Basically I could make my own rules without having to explain to the children why the rules for Mama are different than the rules they live by.
It was amazing.
I think there is a bit of understandable reluctance when I had to give that up for a couple of months. Just as there is a little bit of understandable relief now that the school year has returned, and my house now belongs to the dog and I for eight hours a day.
My old routine can return; reading, writing, running, cleaning, everything done exactly when I want to do it.
However, I can’t seem to remember how I used to live. I know I used to spend Mondays, cleaning my floors, hitting a high word count and putting away laundry. I know Tuesday was a slightly lower word count, occasionally grocery shopping, and beginning homework for the week. I know which days I would post on the blog, and what kind of post I would aim to have each day. I remember when I did everything, and even why things were done when they were.
I just can’t seem to make it work again.
I’m only a few days in, but somehow things are not working the same as they used to, and it is quite devastating.
Some may not even be phased by this change. This is an opportunity to start over, and do everything a new way. Maybe make a few improvements. And I am sure I will get there in a couple of weeks. Instead, today I am still stuck mourning the old routine. It had it’s problems, but I liked it. I could fight for it, pushing to make it work again, but I know it is a pointless pursuit. Eventually, I will wake up, get the kids off to school, and get right into whatever I have planned for the day. After a while I will realize that without noticing I have a new routine, and it is working.
Maybe that is the real constant; it isn’t the day to day activities, it is waking up and knowing I will make the most of the day, in my own way.