And Today Is...

My first two years out of college I had a job I hated, a boyfriend who I didn't particularly like, and no idea what I wanted from life. To get myself through the week I assigned a special "treat" to each day. Monday was "take the ferry to work even if it takes a little longer" day. Tuesday was chocolate croissant day. Wednesday was bookstore day. Thursday was window shop at Bloomingdale's day. Friday was movie after work day. For some reason having a "something" to look forward to each day kept me (sort of) out of the deep depression that I was afraid of sinking into.

I've been in a blah mood for the last couple of weeks, perhaps because the changing weather has halted our spur of the moment forays outside, or because we have entered the season when M works late or travels more days than not. As I made myself an illicit lunch of nachos yesterday after convincing both children to nap, I thought about reinstating my special treat therapy. I can't quite seem to come up with an equally satisfying roster of treats, however. Would "Wednesday is no laundry day" really have the same pick-me-up as knowing I got to spend an hour perusing books and picking out just the right one? I don't think so. And what are the odds of convincing my children that "Tuesday is no whining day?"

My mother assures me that these years of isolation at home with irrational, demanding preschoolers and toddlers will be over before I know it, and that I will, in fact, look back fondly at them. As I listen to C upstairs throwing a temper tantrum of massive proportions because I told him we couldn't use green finger paint to "perk up" his ceiling, I'm not so sure. From the sounds of things upstairs I think I have to work a little bit harder at convincing myself that "Wednesday is no laundry day" is in fact a treat worthy of celebration.