On Monday, the kids were home from school for the long weekend. I decided that since we had a wide open day I would let them entertain themselves while I treated it as another Saturday, since I have about ninety-six Saturdays’ worth of work to do as I try to get settled in our new house.  In my mind’s eye, the children would be pleasantly (and quietly) engaged in their rooms while I happily cranked out my long list of to-dos.  Sunday night, I envisioned my glorious Second Saturday and just knew I was going to:

  • Wake at 5:30 to hit the gym for weights and cardio
  • Re-re-organize the pantry (third time’s the charm)
  • Clean and organize the study, which will (fingers crossed) become a music and reading room one day
  • Return all Christmas presents that don’t fit/weren’t liked/have already broken
  • Purchase replacement presents that do fit/are liked/are not broken
  • Put away the rest of the bonus room
  • Finish big, big pile of laundry (ironing, too.)
  • Here is what I actually accomplished on Monday:

  • Got out of bed at eight o’clock.  (yes.  eight o’ clock.)
  • Brushed my teeth
  • Exchanged pajama bottoms for jeans (left tee and sweatshirt I’d slept in intact.)
  • Put on a hat
  • Took the kids ice skating
  • Had neighborhood kids over to play and eat tomato soup and grilled cheese
  • Sat and talked with my sister in the kitchen
  • And to stifle any rumors:  I did manage to put on a bra.  I thought this was a pretty classy move on my part, seeing as no one notices when I forego it.