He wiggles into bed next to me. I smile. This is a part of our daytime routine that I love.
Then he growls the way he does when he’s really angry. And he pokes me in the face twice. “MOMMY. WHERE IS DADDY?” he says in a loud angry voice.
Okay, this won’t be one of those snuggly mornings. And apparently I left some random jagged piece of fingernail behind when his nails got clipped. Gotta find that sucker and clip it off. Ouch.
“Please don’t tap my face, Alexander.” I say. “You can tap my shoulder if you want my attention.”
“Where’s daddy?” he repeats, tapping my shoulder none too gently.
“Daddy is at work. Today is Monday.”
“Grandma is at work. Today is Monday.”
“Would you like me to make you something to eat?” I ask him.
And the snuggles come. Alexander style. It’s a bit like trying to snuggle a 50 pound pit bull puppy. He wiggles, he climbs on top of me. His head bangs into mine but his thicker skull doesn’t seem to register that as being something to avoid. He wiggles around. Elbow to the ribs. Knee to the groin. Then he settles down and hugs me and gives me the biggest most morning-breath smelling human-puppy kiss ever smack dab on the nose then stays there smiling at me and my offer to make him breakfast the way I do five out of every seven days of the week.
“You do know that I need to get out of bed in order to make breakfast?” I say.
He does. But wants to snuggle first anyway. So I grab the coffee Alex has helpfully left in an insulated mug by the bedside, and we snuggle down and I drink my still slightly warm coffee while trying to keep it from spilling all over us as Alexander snuggle-wrestles.
It is Monday. This early morning grump-moment is how the day will go. The transition back to being our week-day family after dad and gramma and grampa have gone back to work. The transition from having a one to one adult to child ratio for two whole blissful days to being one adult with three kids who will take the day to remember how to share. Me. Toys. Space. Time.
Right now they’re immersed in Playdoh, playing well and sharing. I’m on my second cup of coffee and taking a moment to organize my thoughts about today.
I used to hate Mondays.
I’m still not entirely sure that Monday and I are good buddies.
It’s become more of a day of mindfulness for me. Staying mindful of my own feelings. My own transitions between what life is like over the weekends and what it is like the rest of the time. Being mindful of what my children are acting on when they are acting out. What are they feeling?
We talk about the people that we are missing and we talk about how awesome they are and how much fun we had. And we daydream about the weekend that is coming up and we talk about what our week will be like between now and then.
Slowly the day shifts away from how it started.
As they get older this will become easier. They will understand more. They will be able to focus on the things that they are looking forward to and have less sadness over the lack of continuity between the weekends and the weekdays.
And now… Playdoh time has lost its appeal. My Monday calls. Catch you on the flip-side!