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Sunday Night Preemptive Guilt

Every year around this time, I start shutting down a little. Late spring and summer are very busy for me at work, so it’s hard to welcome it with open arms. The guilt of a 40+ hour work week becomes even more precarious. It doesn’t matter that my kids are 16 and 12. The guilt is still there. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s worse now than it was before. I can’t just up and quit, mind you.

I like my job. But mom-guilt always wins.

Mom-guilt fights dirty.

So it’s Sunday night and I’m dreading the work week. It’s deadline heavy. But after weeks of running myself ragged – I’ve been flying solo in the parenting arena several nights a week for the past few months – I know that this week means that I pour myself into work while my husband takes a turn at the double duty wheel. (Thanks, honey.) It’s a parenting balance to be proud of.

But instead I feel guilty.

Also, tired.

It’s not even Monday morning.

It’s temporary, right? That’s what I keep telling myself. This too shall pass and all that.

But that’s probably part of the problem.

We all know how much I worry about time passing.

But it’s 10:25 on a Sunday night and I’m not even close to going to bed. I’m waiting for for the dryer to finish and my husband decided that tonight would be the night that we start watching House of Cards. Don’t even tell me. We’re only on the second episode, and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to keep up with that kind of time commitment, but damn it’s good. (Also, yikes.)

Tomorrow will bring the deadlines and the stress of the week. But tonight, I’ll finish the laundry, make the lunches and prep the coffee maker while I get sucked into this show that I won’t ever finish. It makes no sense whatsoever.

I’ll feel guilty about it tomorrow.

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sometimes this is what our evenings look like

Yesterday I left work around 5:45. I was already running late to pick up Beezus from school and water polo practice when she called me.

“Um…do you have my softball bag?”

“Uh…no. Did you put it in my car?”

“Um…no. Ok. I’ll just tell coach that I’ll be late to batting practice so we can go home and get it.”

“Can’t you just use someone else’s bat?”

“MOM.”

“Beezus.”

(Exasperated sigh from both of us.)

We don’t live close to her school. We live slightly closer to where batting practice was, but driving ALL the way home and then basically ALL the way back wasn’t going to work for me. I was already solo-parenting it last night. Dropping Beezus off late would’ve made me late getting home for Ramona when my parents dropped her off.

I have nothing planned for dinner. I also don’t have much to make into dinner.

Being sick all last week has put me behind on all household things. Although, my house is pretty clean, thank you husband and my short breaks from feeling poopy.

(I still don’t feel all that great. But at least I’m better than I was.)

Ramona still had homework to do when she got home. I worry about her getting it done and still getting to bed on time.

Feed the dog. Clean up…after the dog.

Husband, thankfully, was able to pick up Beezus from batting practice, but I was already in the car and a quarter of the way there when he called. (I had no problem making THAT U-turn to head back home.)

Help Ramona with her homework. Remind Ramona that she needs to finish homework and hurry to bed because it’s getting late.

Laundry. Damn. That should’ve been started hours ago. I rushed to get that going. OH BUT WAIT. I forgot that I washed towels two days ago. So, yeah…THOSE need to be washed again.

Do we have anything for lunches? NO. No we do not. So to the grocery story I go. At 10 o’clock at night. Knowing that I have to be up at 4:30 to help get Beezus and The Dude out the door by 5am. (Tuesday mornings at our house suck eggs, y’all.) (The Dude offered to go to the store. But helping with high school math is way harder than a grocery store trip. I made him stay home.)

groceries

I try to not feel guilty that I toss crap like Uncrustables in my cart. Sure, PB&J are the easiest sandwiches in the world to make…but let’s go ahead and make it easier on Jill because I’M STILL NOT DONE WITH OTHER SHIT ONCE I GET HOME FROM THE GROCERY STORE. There’s lots of other good and healthy food in my cart, so I try to make myself feel better. Except…what is my family going to eat for dinner tomorrow while I’m gone at an event? Probably should grab something for them…

Get home and start the load of laundry that I needed to start HOURS ago. Put those pesky towels in the dryer.

Put away groceries. Stopped feeling bad about Uncrustables when I think about how all lunches are practically made.

Send some emails that I meant to send hours ago. Love that emails can be sent so late.

Put clothes in the dryer.

Head to bed. Pretend that I’m going to bed at 9 and not midnight. Laugh at earlier in the day when I thought I might be able to go to bed early.

Remind myself to be grateful that not all nights are like this.