Monday, Monday...

A collective sigh rains out. People lament across multiple social networks. A fugue of depression settles down across the world; for it is Monday. A day that universally people loathe. Except in my house. Monday is my FAVORITE day of the week. It's the day that I reclaim my life. Every Monday morning I skip as I drag my reticent children into the car. I cheerfully buckle them into their seats, unbothered by their vehement attempts to escape their fetters. The whines of "I don't want to go to school" are music to my ears because I know that in a few minutes I will be in total control of my day. Laundry, cleaning, all of my weekly chores begin today and I don't even mind. I work my day into routine - and everything can be accomplished when I feel like doing them. I know exactly where I have to be and when I have to be there. I have the morning without one child, the afternoon free from the other for a few blissful nap hours - while the first relaxes after school. I can be on the computer without my husband nagging me about Facebooking again -- when I'm not even on Facebook (I'm Pinteresting which is totally different!). I can do the dishes without someone yelling that they need help on the potty. Just when I get to the point when I'm sick of being a mommy for the day, my husband comes home from work and then they annoy the crap out of him instead. The end of the weekend is here! The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the Monday morning complaints begin. I am immune. I stretch my arms over my head and smile at the beginning of another week. Then, my husband rolls over and says "I think I'm going to work from home today." Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All my plans are out the window. I drag myself, grumbling out of bed. So not ready to carpe diem. I freakin' hate Mondays.