In my head this summer was going to be this amazing relaxing and simultaneously productive thing.
And maybe it will be come July.
But I sort of forgot that teaching one class in seven weeks is equivalent to teaching two classes in fifteen. Minus committee work plus getting actual writing done divided by trying to pick up kids early when I can equals not reading for pleasure, not watching movies, and definitely no clean house.
BUT
Tiny Boy is mostly back in his crib. And nursed last night only twice. Which is not a TREND, mind you, but it sure is something nice. And my left breast really says THANK YOU.
And maybe it will be come July.
But I sort of forgot that teaching one class in seven weeks is equivalent to teaching two classes in fifteen. Minus committee work plus getting actual writing done divided by trying to pick up kids early when I can equals not reading for pleasure, not watching movies, and definitely no clean house.
BUT
Tiny Boy is mostly back in his crib. And nursed last night only twice. Which is not a TREND, mind you, but it sure is something nice. And my left breast really says THANK YOU.
how do things like that seem so plausible in our minds and then so clearly not in reality. I still do hope there is some time for reading for pleasure and watching movies. The clean house is pie in the sky, I've come to realize (and I only have 1 immobile child).
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