In my naive, pre-child bearing days, I always thought that Labor Day was a holiday named in the great Democratic tradition of protective unions, worker reform, and the common man. I thought it was a day in honor of labor--a day designated to let laborers rest.
As with all my pre-child ideas--including Mother's Day being a day of rest for moms, family vacations being, you know, vacations, and bathrooms being a haven of privacy--this, too has been dispelled.
Labor Day is thus named, because it is another freaking day of labor! More laundry, more meals at home, and this particular Labor Day, another day of being rained in. My best efforts at having an indoor fun day were sapped yesterday. I have fantasies of turning on the TV for 8 hours and then putting the kids to bed. But of course, we have satellite TV. Gustav is blocking my reception. Damn you, Gustav! We have rented some movies, and I planned on doling those out for meritorious behavior. Still waiting for the good behavior. But may dole out the movies anyway.
I am cranky and crampy, and hoping the storm continues to be an inconvenience in our area rather than the menace it represents for New Orleans. If things continue on the path they are on, school should resume tomorrow for the kids, work has already been canceled for M and he and I can enjoy a leisurely, coffee-filled morning together.
I look to the week ahead and see normal school days and reasonable after school-activities. Relief in the familiarity of routine. Relief in the steady pattern of silence and noise, contented playtime and arguing, chaos and quiet. These are the days of fall school years.
I am ready for those days to resume.
Rain, rain, go away....
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