Thursdays are brutal. I teach at night, which means it's a very long work day. It's also the end of the week when the kids are starting to fade, Issa's longest dance night, and the night that homework just seems to be a bit harder. In short: a perfect storm.
I have an incredible sitter who covers when Brad is out of town, but she's not mom. I come home to happy children and a house that is not a mess but not right. Everything is just a little wonky. She finishes dinner while I get the kids in the shower, and then she heads out while they eat and we finish homework. It's a great system.
But Thursdays are still the bane of my existence. I end up trying to clean life, the universe, and everything after the kids are in bed a little later than usual, and then promptly collapse into bed.
I want to say it's okay. I don't mind. But I do. This whole idea of balance is just crap for moms. There is no such thing. It's more like juggling, and Thursdays are the days I just make sure nothing crashes. Today, though, I get to start fresh. The normal routine. And for that, I am grateful.