Just when you finally get a little relaxation into your bones over the weekend
somehow Monday morning rolls around and wacks you on the head.
But lately, I have come to love Monday mornings.
It has become my weekday sabbath.
As a child, I always thought that resting on the Lord's Day was highly overrated.
Being a pastor's kid, Sunday afternoon naps were a torment.
I was a highly motivated child. I was motivated not to take naps.
This has come back to haunt me as an adult.
All those Sundays when I could have been resting, I didn't.
I should have socked them away for future use in my late 30's.
I'll let you in on a little pastoral family secret, Sundays aren't very restful.
They are more work-ful. It is good work, of course, there is just not a lot of lounging or quiet meditation involved.
So now as I've started speaking at functions on Saturdays and Sundays are a day of prepping for and attending our gathering and Tuesday starts my work week of subbing,
Monday has become my default day of rest.
After getting the big boys off to school, I get a few moments to putter.
Puttering is the opposite of having gagillion things to do all at the same time.
I have found out after, lo, these many years that I am not particularly great at multi-tasking.
I am more of a uni-tasker who is required to multi-task.
So on Monday morning with NOTHING on the calendar, I get to do one thing at a time.
Like sip coffee or take a shower or peruse a magazine (unbelievable) or finish off doing the bills in a puttering sort of way.
On Mondays, I pretend I am a lady of leisure.
I keep Addison home with me on Mondays, too, giving him a break from his preschool routine.
And we often squeeze each other very tight with joy and say,
"We get to stay home today!" because we are ecstatic over our good fortune.
So after a busy Saturday and an even busier Sunday, this morning has burst bright upon me and I am going to get my coffee, steaming hot with lots of milk, and go watch an episode of Scooby Doo with Addie.
Because it's Monday.