I don't know why I hate Mondays

Actually, I do. Monday is not a school day*. Monday the laundry has been piling up for at least 3 days. Monday the house is littered with matchbox toys, crayons, dirty socks, old beer bottles, half-empty beach bags, sand, opened mail, and everything else that has accumulated over the weekend. Monday we are out of soy milk, or bread, or eggs, or something else that requires at least a short trip to the store.

Monday is also the day that Lance too depressed to be much help, too short of temper to have a worthwhile conversation with, too tired to pay much attention to the rugrats.

I'm not at my best on Mondays, either, especially after I've spent the whole goddamned day cleaning up, shopping, doing laundry and mothering in between. Sometimes I think gratefully about how much harder Monday would be if I had to go to work, but then I think: wouldn't it be nice to go to work today and get a break from the kids, talk to some adults, not worry about all this never-ending household minutiae? 'Course, then you have to come home and deal with it, so . . .I suppose that's why Mondays suck all around.

Yesterday was made even more annoying by the required trip to the doctor due to a strange rash that showed up all over Vivian's arms and legs, and also manifested itself as a cold sore on her tongue and a blister on her foot. (Not hand foot and mouth disease, just some random bacterial infection, thanks.) By the time evening rolled around and the kids were fed and in bed and Lance and I ate dinner (an eggplant and lamb recipe that turned out well, surprisingly), I was done. Toast. As was Lance. A ridiculous argument about a potential trip back East followed, and both of us sniffed off to bed without more than a cursory peck on the check.

SUCKAGE.

Today is Tuesday, and the livin's easy, as they say. Well, at least, the weather's nice. I took the kids and my mother-in-law back to the kid's museum where they ran themselves ragged in the streams and climbing structures. We're home, the kids are snoring and I've got some time to finish the laundry and possibly relax in the yard for a bit. If the weather holds, we're heading to the beach for dinner, which does wonders to slay the Monday beast.

Hoping your Monday was better than mine . . .

*This week is spring break at Isaac's school, which makes Monday that much worse: I have no relief in site. Spring break shall be known as the Worst Week of the Year from here on out.