I know you don't really have time to read this, my fellow adventurers, because I sure as heck don't have time to write it. After all, it's September, and with September comes school and activities and obligations and all that rush-rush-rush-we're-having-fun stuff.
Consider today's schedule, for example:
5:00 am: Wake up, sort of.
5:30 am: YMCA workout; chat quickly with friend; freak out a bit when I realize I forgot flip-flops for shower; wash, dress, put on make-up, sort of.
7:30 am: Get to work, eat oatmeal, make coffee for everyone who arrives an hour or more after me.
9:30 am: Finally make it through the 52 urgent e-mails in my inbox that arrived overnight; respond to some, put off others.
10:00 to 3:45 pm: Work feverishly on my professional to-do list, without really accomplishing much besides adding more to my to-do list, and gulping down a ham sandwich at my desk between meetings.
4:30 pm: Pick up Zippy from day care; apologize (again) to his friend's mom for the hitting.
4:45 pm: Pick up Happy from art class at school; chase both boys around hallways; pull Zippy away from fish tank while he's kicking me repeatedly in the thighs and stomach; pretend like I'm not fuming because I don't want the judgy stares from other parents.
5:00 pm: Arrive home; supervise hand-washing, homework, snacking, clothes-changing; throw chicken strips in the oven; hope that serving boxed mac-n-cheese again isn't causing major damage.
5:30 pm: Gobble down "dinner" so fast that it sits like a rock in my belly; notice that even the children are tired of mac-n-cheese.
6:00 pm: Hustle the monkeys into the car and drive to flag football practice.
6:15 pm: Meet Coach Honey at flag football practice; watch all my boys run around smiling and enjoy the chilly fall air on my face; chat with another mommy who actually had baseball practice before football practice, marvel at her ability to still be smiling and pleasant and conversational -- and then love her even more when I see her speak through clenched teeth to her 4-year-old because I see she's really just like me, with thin patience but good intentions.
7:30 pm: Wrestle Zippy -- actually, physically wrestle him -- into diaper, pajamas, and bed, then watch as the magic binky-blankie-smoochy combo turns him into the most beautiful, cuddly angel-baby I've ever seen.
7:45 pm: Listen to Happy reading aloud for his assigned 15 minutes, thinking about how this is my very favorite 15 minutes of ever day.
8:20 pm: Say prayers, give kisses, watch Happy completely zonk out with a teeny smile on his still-suntanned face.
8:30 pm: Eat ice cream while conducting the nightly bullet-point conversation with Honey, snuggled on the couch in front of our new favorite show, Game of Thrones.
9:30 pm: Wash face, brush teeth, pluck TWO gnarly ghost-white hairs from the center of my hairline; study white hairs for a moment, wondering how they appeared so suddenly and whether the entire back of my head is gray and I just don't know it because I can't see that part of my body.
9:45 pm: Pass out with my feet on Honey's lap, thankful for this beautiful, healthy family; thankful that we made it through yet another hectic day with smiles and grace; and thankful that it's Wednesday and there's only one more hectic day this week.