By the time the boys in front of me at church yesterday got to “forgive us our trespasses,” they really needed it. The older one, likely a college kid, was digging his fingers into his younger brother’s hand throughout much of “The Lord’s Prayer,” a time when we’re all supposed to join hands and ask to be delivered from evil. But on the last day of the holiday break, at least for his high school-aged brother, perhaps they were both being a little evil. I know the feeling.
For the rest of the day, my own family was doing their own trespassing. After nearly two weeks off from work and school, the Cranky Level around here was exceptionally high, and rightfully so. Nobody wanted to give up the sledding and the cookies with red sprinkles and the “Let’s rent a movie!” and go back to homework and conference calls. Nobody, that is, except me.
Now before you think I’m going to whine about having everyone home for the holidays, that’s not what this blog is about. It’s about how a little routine, not to mention some alone time, is good for the soul. Especially the mom’s soul. Especially the mom-who-works-from-home’s soul.
Because though the rest of my family had off over the holidays, I didn’t. I had deadlines and business plans for 2010 to hash out. Also, piles of wet snowsuits and a kitchen floor that crunched when I walked on it, no matter how many times I cleaned it.
That’s not to say that the rest of my family acted like useless slobs who expected me to wait on them hand-and-foot. Rather, my husband cooked fabulous meals every other night. (The five most romantic words he’s ever said to me are “Get out of my kitchen.”) And the kids helped me clean out my closet and match up about a bazillion pairs of socks that had been sitting in a laundry basket forever. (For a small fee, of course.)
It’s just that a lot of togetherness, even if you love — and more importantly, like — the people you’re together with for two weeks can make a person feel like getting back to the daily grind. Hence, the kid in the pew in front of me grinding his brother’s hand, perhaps.
Eventually, you have to put down the Wii controllers and get back to your workaday life, because if you don’t, then you’re either independently wealthy or a stoner content with living on your brother’s couch until he kicks you out.
And though I feel a little bit of dread over the indoor soccer carpool I feel coming on, I am ready to forgive everybody’s trespasses and be delivered from the evils of the gobs of free time we’ve had around here since before Christmas.
So, I bid farewell to my husband as he left for work this morning for the first time in about two weeks. And I waved good-bye to the buses that carted my kids to school. Then I came inside, reheated my tea, and listened to the silence. Come Spring Break in April, forgive me, but I’ll be ready to do it all again.