I remember the days I used to count down to Saturday. Monday and Tuesday were sometimes bearable. Wednesday around noon I was half way there, and so on.
I was especially prone to such mental exercises when I was dating Jeff. He lived here in Lancaster and I lived a little over an hour away. So, on Friday night when he was done with work he would pack some clothes and drive back to his parents’ house, which — fortunately for me — was a ten minute drive from my house. So on Friday, every Friday, I felt like it was Christmas! We’d see each other on the weekends and then he’d leave on Sunday evening. So, of course, I dreaded Sunday nights.
This two-and-a-half year period was a time of great drama for me — dramatic highs, waiting to see him on Friday nights, and heart-wrenching lows, saying goodbye on Sunday nights. You won’t be surprised to learn, I suppose, that the drama was all mine. He never understood why I was so sad to see him leave for Lancaster. “You’ll be seeing me again in five days!” … I guess it’s just not a guy-thing.
And, neither is it a girl-thing for me. Anymore. My life has become much more level and much less dramatic. I think I stopped crying about him being gone for a week on business the summer we got married. Yeah — that drama’s gone. I miss him and all, but I feel a little guilty about how exited I get that I don’t have to cook for the week! (You see, the girls and I are happier with sandwiches and spaghetti. Easy, peasy!)
These days, my weeks look a lot less like week/weekend. Now, Monday looks much more like any other day of the week. You see, I’m able to stay at home, and I shuttle kids to and from bus stops and afternoon kindergarten. And my husband works from home. So, even weekends aren’t all that different for me, as far as the scenery is concerned.
Allyson, our first-grader, who so wishes (loudly and often) that her school didn’t have to start so early — on Saturday is out of bed at the crack of dawn! Katey has never slept-in a day in her life. Well, except maybe … Nope. Not once. And Jeff, who works in his home office Monday through Friday, is often sitting at the computer in — you guessed it! — his home office most Saturday mornings. (Albeit, on his own pc, rather than his work lap-top.)
And, who has ever known a mom who got the weekends off? Does the family stop eating first thing Saturday morning? Nooooooooo. Do they stop wearing clothes that have to be washed, just because it’s the weekend? Not in this household. And, as many times as I’ve asked them, they’ve never successfully stopped using dishes on Saturday or Sunday, either.
Now, to be clear, lest you think I’m complaining here, I want to tell you: I’m really not. I love being able to spend Saturday morning snuggling with my girls. I love being able to worship together as a family on Sunday morning. And I love hearing Allyson tell me she can’t wait for the weekend because we get to spend all our time together!
My only purpose is to point out that the weekend doesn’t signify the end of the work week for moms, as it does for many other members of society. There, practically speaking, isn’t such a phenomenon. We will likely work more during our weekends. Just as we will probably be connecting more, too. It’s all good!
We just want you to understand and give credit where it’s due. That’s all I’m asking.