Since school started in August, every Thursday has been a terrible day. Every. Single. One. Thursday is grocery store day, when my kids turn into monkeys, hell-bent on being anywhere but beside the basket. Thursday is the day after laundry day, which means my bed is piled six feet high with unsorted laundry. Thursday is the day before our homeschool co-op, which should mean I prepare my science lesson. (Because I would never procrastinate to the point of assembling science crafts at 6 AM on Friday mornings.)
And most of all, Thursday is therapy day. I. Hate. Therapy day.
So a few weeks ago when I realized that my birthday would fall on a Thursday, I immediately set about making October 6th distinctly not a Thursday. Which led me to making all my Thursdays from now on not Thursdays.
I have been meaning to try out a new grocery store and shop on a different day…done. Monday is now grocery store day at HEB, which many Texans know is a wonderful thing.
Two weeks ago, I stopped teaching Boy on Thursdays. I now teach four days of lessons in three days. On Thursdays, he does worksheets to review the week’s lessons, and we take library trips and do piano lessons as time allows.
I cancelled therapy for tomorrow. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!! Seriously, all I wanted for my birthday was to not take the kids to therapy.
I refused to make any appointments for tomorrow. A weekday without appointments? Crazy.
PJ and I are going to a pregnancy center banquet tomorrow night! I get to have a meal with adults! There will be no hot dogs or spaghetti-os. No one will scream “MO MO MO MO” in an effort to get seconds. And I’m guessing no one will crawl under the table during dinner.
My sweet husband has already been working to make tomorrow a wonderful day for me. He arrived home tonight bearing a beautiful bouquet of pink roses. My gift, an iPod dock for the kitchen, arrived today and is now plugged in on the counter, ready to be enjoyed.
So as I turn 25 tomorrow, I will have the immense pleasure of knowing that this Thursday will not be a dreaded Thursday. I’m even pondering a nap…like a real nap in which my eyes are closed and I actually sleep. Don’t tell Baby. She can sense when my eyes are closing and feels a strong need to practice her banshee shrieks.
On any of my past birthdays, I could not have guessed that at 25 I would be a mom of three. Crazy. Weird. Wonderful.