There are no more routines in my house.
Summer has killed them all.
I’m trying, really, I am.
I am a creature of habit. I LIKE routines. I NEED routines.
(and I’m also being attacked by a creature as I type. Scooby Cat has decided to “help” me write and is sitting on my keyboard. Help me, Rhonda.)
As I was saying…
I am a creature of habit. So are my girls. Especially Big Girl. We need our routines and schedules. It makes us happy.
However, this summer, all semblances of routines seem to be going out the window. I don’t know why. I don’t know who is the culprit. Whomever it is, they have been very, very sneaky about it. We’re halfway through summer and I just realized it. And, now, I’m not sure what to do about it. Or, if I even care!
You see, SuperMan’s job is one where he works 10-hour days. Which means he doesn’t get home until late in the evening – well, sorta late, anyway. Add to that the fact that I work from home and my work schedule is pretty much what I make it. I start when I want and finish when I need to quit. Usually, that’s around 7:30 AM and 5:30PM… but some days it’s earlier or later, depending on what’s going on.
The girls have gotten into a routine of sleeping “late” (well, what I consider late for them, anyway, given that they used to wake at 6:30 even on weekends) and lazing around the house in the mornings. Some days, breakfast isn’t until 10AM. Lunch? Well, that might not happen until 2PM.
And dinner? Well, that one is really a mess. With SuperMan’s late schedule and the fact that the monkeys feel like the ABSOLUTELY MUST go to the pool EVERY SINGLE AFTERNOON dinner has been, ahem, a bit delayed this summer. Last night we didn’t eat until 9PM (gasp!) but most nights it’s closer to 7 when we eat.
This is unheard of in my house. We have always had lunch at noon, dinner around 5:30 and bath/bedtimes started around 7:30. That was how my grandma did it and if it was good enough for her, it is certainly good enough for me. Dinner at 9PM? Really? Yeah, last night was seriously outside of my comfort zone. I had to keep reminding myself it was more important to get everyone fed than freak out because it was so late.
It’s summer. Who cares?
Which leads me back to my original point.
Summertime has killed my routines.
And while on the inside I’m cringing because the kids are eating at weird hours, there is no such thing as “bedtime” and I can’t tell you what we are doing at any particular time on any particular day (until we are in that moment) I’m trying really hard to embrace the spontaneity of the season. The girls are older now, they seem to be handling it well. No one is suffering – in fact, I think they secretly like it.
So, here’s to tossing the routines out the window and living my summer moment-by-moment.
I can still hear August’s murmurs in my ears… “what about back-to-school schedules? what about sleep patterns?”
Well, August, you can just be quiet for now. I’ll worry about you when you get here.