Sherri Cornelius

The house is dirtier than it used to be. While I was a stay-at-home mother I felt unappreciated and resentful about all the housework I had to do. I never felt like I got enough done. Now I'm amazed at how much I was able to accomplish. The soap-making, the knitting, the cooking, the fridge cleaning... It takes less time to hold my breath when I have to get milk out of the fridge than it does to clean it.

I'd like to have the time to finish this website. I wish I could read a book. I'd love to help my friends promote their books. 

When I started taking classes toward my long-postponed bachelor's degree, I truly had no idea the work load would be so heavy. I don't remember doing this much when I was in college full time. Like, maybe one assignment per week per class, with the larger chapters broken up over a couple of weeks. In each of these classes I have a chapter per week with a related lecture, quiz, and discussion, plus several short papers over the semester. It says a lot that I feel more pressed for time now than when I was taking 18 hours and working full time with time to party left over.

But I have kids now--a full time job in itself, running them around. And in online classes they can only track us by our online work, and that means writing and assessments.

It's just the nature of the beast (which apparently lives in my fridge).

The hubs and I make a good team, some days. A lot of the time we are at odds, but when I’m flexible and he’s engaged I get a glimpse of the fully functional, tag-teaming couple we can be.

Yesterday was one of these days. He volunteered to stop by the grocery store after work, because he apparently saw how stressed I’ve been. Maybe he got a clue when I started ruminating aloud about running off with the circus. Anyway, he pretty much took care of dinner while I finished changing the water pump in my little car.

I’ve been feeling more tired than usual for a couple of days, but I started feeling really bad last night, around the time I put the tire back on the car. I celebrated the job’s completion till I sat back and looked around. Tools and trash everywhere. I knew I couldn’t leave it all out overnight so I pushed myself to put it into some semblance of order. By the end I couldn’t enjoy my success as my dragging ass was distracting me. Plus I knew I was going to have to clean up the kitchen later.

When I got into the house the hubs had already put all the food away, and all I had to do was put the last few dishes into the dishwasher. That is love to me. It’s not a feeling, it’s noticing when I need help and then helping me. Nothing gives me the warm-and-fuzzies more than when my husband volunteers to take some of the responsibility off my shoulders.