Today started off at neck-breaking pace and never let up.
When I rolled over to look at the clock this morning, it read 7:43 a.m. - seventeen minutes before school started. I bolted out of bed, threw on yesterday's clothes, and ran downstairs. The house was eerily quiet.
I made it to the kitchen and saw Zach wolfing down some Cheerios. Garry was frantically making a sandwich for Zach's lunch. Apparently Garry and I woke up at the same instant.
To backtrack, I sort of remember feeding Gavin somewhere in the five a.m. region. Apparently he didn't go back to sleep. Garry retrieved him from his crib and snuggled with him on the couch. I was completely unconscious, and Garry and Gavin quickly followed suit.
We assume Zach and Ty went about their usual morning routine: waking up around six and playing in their room until someone summoned them for breakfast at seven. Well, that was the point of failure. There weren't any coherent adults to perform breakfast duty at 7:00, and amazingly, the boys didn't complain about it. At 7:42, Zach and Ty were still in their bedroom, lazing about in their pajamas. Oh boy.
Incredibly, Zachary was seated in his classroom at 8:00. My heart rate returned to normal around 8:30, but once I showered it was back to go-go-go-go-go....there were insurance guys to call, emails to send, music time to plan, and visiting teaching to arrange. The phone was glued to my ear all day, even when I drove around town making returns, buying sheet music, nurturing Tyler with his slammed-in-the-door fingers and potty emergencies, picking up lunch, and meeting Garry to sign inspection paperwork. I actually set up shop in the parking lot of Wells Fargo for almost an hour while we waited for a document to arrive. Tyler perused children's books that I need to return to a friend and Gavin nursed and played. I lived in fear of a blowout since I forgot the diaper bag, but we survived 4 1/2 hours away from home without it.
I squeezed in three phone calls and retrieved four phone messages in the 15 minutes we were home before picking up Zachary from school. My cell phone rang while we walked to school, as well, but I had to quit my conversation with yet another insurance guy because the post-school bedlam was just too much.
At home I shamelessly set up the boys with a movie and a big snack, then nursed Gavin and put him down for a nap so I could hit the computer and phone again. I only came up for air when Gavin cried, and that happened twice before 6:30 p.m. The boys were mesmerized with recorded episodes of Cyberchase.
Happily, I made progress on many fronts. We have chosen an insurance carrier for our new home and cars, and we'll be getting far better coverage for not much more money than we are paying now. We have also selected a moving service and have locked in at a rate we are comfortable with. (Tomorrow we will find out if the dates we have to work with are doable for the company. Apparently having closing/possession dates eight days apart is rather odd.) I have changed our address with a bunch of places, most notably USPS and our church magazines. I have begun to organize the mountains of moving-related paperwork (most of it is going to the recycling bin!). I have selected sheet music for my piano students and made an important return/purchase expedition to Deseret Book. And I have gone visiting teaching for the last time in Beaverton (sniff, sniff).
As I went about my tasks, I began getting overwhelmed by all that did NOT get done today. This house looks like a tornado swept through it this morning. There are mountains of laundry everywhere. The kitchen is a wreck, despite the fact that I haven't cooked since I got home from Colorado. How is this possible? The house was spotless on Sunday morning. I need to prepare singing time for Primary and practice the choir number I'm accompanying this week. The piano recital program won't format itself, and I'm sure the guy who is interested in seeing our dining set will choose to come at the worst possible time. Oh, and packing? Yeah, that's gotta start happening soon.
Can you sense that I'm starting to get a little frantic? I feel like there's a little mouse in my brain, running on a wheel that goes faster and faster as time goes on. Pretty soon that mouse is going to lose his balance, fly off the wheel and crash into a wall. Something tells me that when that happens, another mouse will appear to take his place.
9 comments:
Ah, a busy, busy day. But you got so much done! Don't worry about the other stuff. Things have a way of workin' out!
Wow,
That sounds like a repeat of our lives a few months ago. It's funny how all the fun and excitement of moving to a new house can be sucked right out of the whole experience by all the stuff that has to be done. Fortunately you'll get it all done and you'll be settled in Colorado before you know it. Hang in there.
You're amazing! Hang on tight!
There's a little mouse in my head too :) I'm so glad you found your new home in Colorado. It looks like the perfect place... wood floors, nice big backyard!
Even though you were busy things did work out and you got lots done. Glad to hear someone is looking at your table. Did you order the other one? I'm also glad to hear you got the movers lined up. Before long you'll be settled in cool Colorado enjoying the beautiful mountains and cool evenings.
Wow, I don't think you have enough going on! ;) Let me know if you need ANYTHING. Our backyard is finally ready to be played in and we would love to have your boys over before you leave.
Man, if I make one phone call I'm proud of myself. Good work sister. Love the mouse analogy. Or is that a metaphor?
I have a hamster instead of a mouse, but he's been hijacked by the slug who has temporarily taken over my life. You are getting it done, one thing at a time, and it will all work out in the end. (Easy for me to say....) It's the hanging in there that's the toughest part. Keep up the good fight!
Ahh, I know that feeling so well! The mouse is a very apt metaphor. The good news is, soon you'll be in Colorado one way or the other, and hopefully that mouse won't have directions.
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