Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me...

...motivated! I know it's weird. My entire life, mondays have been about a beginning that I was not all too excited to embark upon. But lately, I love a Monday. Here's the deal. Weekends are great, don't get me wrong, but I tend to get absolutely nothing done on weekends in terms of housework. Part of it is my need for something different than the rest of the week, part of it is wanting to put family first and just enjoy my peeps, and part is downright denial that there is anything that needs to be done. All of these factors add up to the fact that by Sunday night, a whole lot of work is looming, but I've generally had enough of the denial that I am actually ready to face the tasks at hand.

So what will it be tomorrow? Making much needed phone calls that I have been putting off such as dentist appointments, summer kids classes for Melaina, etc? Or maybe putting the Mr. Clean magic eraser to work on those scuffs on my walls and baseboards? Laundry? Dusting every piece of furniture? Changing out winter/summer clothes in the closet? Shredding old mail? Rearranging M's toys now that Clara can get to anything and everything? Who knows, the possibilities are endless. Maybe I'll do all of it and then some.

Now, I could end this post here and let you think that I am such a productive woman who seizes the day and has endless energy. But you should know me better than that by now, so here's the other half of the truth. Yes, Monday I will certainly wake up with renewed vigor and tackle much needed chores, but that is the peak for the entire week. By Tuesday morning, I have a remarkably less motivated spirit and amount of "getterdoneness". The rest of the week will be a quickly declining arch of housekeeping that will culminate in another weekend of "this is my time" and then another injection of Monday adrenaline. That's not all, while doing these great projects, I will no doubtably belittle myself during any said chore as it is happening.

Example: A couple of Mondays ago I got down on my hands and knees all Cinderella style and scrubbed the bejeezus out of my kitchen floor. At first I felt so proud of myself for finally tackling one of my least favorite things in the world, but that pride quickly gave way to absolute shame and guilt and downright emotional self abuse. The whole time I was scrubbing, all I could think about was, "How in the !@#$ did I let these floors get this bad", and "This is disgusting, I am the worst housekeeper ever", and last but not least, "Shame on me!"

If you are thinking I need a shrink (and a housekeeper) you are correct, but I digress. I am still trying to focus on keeping the main thing the main thing and not let my many shortcomings get me down. Bottom line: life is good and when it is all said and done, I won't be wishing I had spent more time on my hands and knees cleaning. It's the hugs and kisses, memories and loving moments that a well spent life is made up of. For the heck of it though, I will let y'all know what tomorrow's renewed sense of Martha Stewart inspired chore tackling brings! Until then...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-F5qgEBHAVM&feature=related