As always, I had high hopes for a new writing endeavor, this time as part of a kick-ass Lenten observance. Then Snowpocalypse 2021 happened, and about fifty percent of what I was shooting for just went away. That is why I find myself typing sideways on a laptop that has to be plugged in (since it has a bum battery) while my toddler goes back and forth from screaming at me to screaming at her toys that won’t do exactly what she wants them to do. If I’m starting a new habit, I figure stumbling into it is better than not starting.
Right now, the older two siblings are fighting over an agreement they made about who has to clean the floor of their room and who has to help fold and put away the last of their laundry – basically, the oldest made a poor choice in agreeing to help the youngest with her laundry after the youngest finished cleaning the floor. She did not set a time limit and is now finding herself losing her desire to be a big helper. They both handled it manfully when I told them their fighting had cost them the dollar I promised if they could clean their room and do their laundry without bickering, but that they could still earn a show if they kept it together while they finished. “Yes sir…”
After the past week, I am just happy we have running hot and cold water, no burst pipes, and consistent power to the house. I know many Texans have had it a lot worse. We had a couple of very cold nights in the house, bundled the toddler in several layers, and rearranged the furniture to gather around the fireplace which we used for the first time since we moved in. Many thanks to nearby friends and my brother who supplied us with firewood so we didn’t have to get gouged after waiting in line for it. I took the oldest two outside to play in the snow each day and had hot chocolate to help cope with the stir craziness, but man would it be nice to get back on routine – a routine where I can finish a run I obsessively want to finish so I don’t choke at the race I’m training for next week.
If there’s anything of which this week has reminded me, it’s that anything worth doing is worth doing poorly, and sometimes poorly is all I can achieve. Sometimes plans just get ruined and you have to accept not getting everything done well at the end of the day, or week, or month, or 2020 – which apparently still isn’t over. She is screaming so loudly now – but I have about sixty words left, kid, can’t you understand that?! I baked bread today already, and everything else just has to be heated up, so dinner shouldn’t be too hard to pull together in a few minutes. I thought I would finish my run before dinner, but I probably won’t, and I’ll probably sit by the fire and drink whiskey once the kids are in bed. I didn’t give up alcohol for Lent, so it’s ok, right? I did everything else I was supposed to do today, more or less.