It’s Monday.

I try to motivate myself. I try to get going and do something. But I continue to find myself only planning for and anticipating their arrival and dreading their departure. When The Babies are home, I’m on point. We all eat a good meal, everybody is in bed on time and bathed. Bedtime stories come with wicked quickness. The next morning is usually a mad dash but they’re to school on time, clean and alert. Everybody has taken their vitamins. My day is productive and orderly.

They go to their mom’s today.

Flickr @ yummyinmytummyblog

When they’re not around, I lose it. The time in between their stays at home is strung together with Futurama reruns, piled up dishes in the sink, Facebook marathons and several orders of Papa John’s Chipotle chicken wings. I don’t want to admit I’m that guy. You know the guy with no real direction unless he’s ushering kiddlings to a ballet rehearsal or a karate class or the next playdate. I need to get in the gym, do some yardwork, do some real work, call a friend, go to church, join a cause, do something for God’s sake.

I’ve really been trying to get better. And I have made some progress. I don’t cry anymore when they’re gone. [Read more →]