Saturday Morning

I really like Saturday mornings. Even if my body wakes me up at my normal time I can lie there and be completely lazy. Defiantly so, because I hate that I still feel guilty when I’m not being “productive”. Damn capitalistic patriarchy! I’m a grown ass woman dammit.

A grown ass woman who lives with her mother, a woman who does not ever sit still on Saturday mornings. At least not for long.

I had to establish a boundary when I first moved in. I do not do anything before my first cup of coffee, not even speak. For the most part she has complied with this boundary.

However, this morning I made the mistake of saying more words after good morning when I was making my cuppa. It’s as if she was just waiting for the extra words to start because she didn’t even let me finish my sentence before she launched into a whole bunch of words that I think I got most of.

She had been waiting for me to get up because she has so much to do, and she didn’t get to do any of her normal Friday tasks because she had to work and now she has to do them all today and she needs my help to move this and do that. I’m exhausted and I haven’t even finished my second cup of coffee.

I’m really, really glad I took that extra time to surf and scroll this morning before getting out of bed. Also, I’m very grateful Tennessee is a night owl.

Truth be told I am a bit envious of my mother’s energy and drive to clean. Despite the part of it coming from being programmed to always be industrious, I love how easily she still does so many practical things. Makes me believe she’ll be around for a long time and I’m grateful for that.

I mean who’s going to clean my bathroom and put things away so I can’t find them in my room when I’m gone for a week? At least she asks permission first now. I often wonder if she would respect my saying no. I’m tempted to say please don’t go in my room next week while I’m gone and then leave interesting  toys out to see what happens.

But I won’t. Not this time anyway. You see one of the reasons my mother cleans is to deal with her anxiety. And right now she is very anxious about her foot surgery on the 21st. She will not be able to walk or put any weight on her foot. She will be forced to be still for weeks.

So this weekend is only the beginning. While I’m away she will be taking time off work and there will be no space in this house that will go untouched. She will have to use my bathroom post-surgery so denying her access to my room while I’m away would be cruel. So I’ll make sure all items that might make mom uncomfortable will be safely put away and I’ll do my best to minimize my messiness this week to help keep her anxiety at bay.

I need another cup of coffee…maybe with a shot of whiskey.

Be well my friends.

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