From Daylight to Dark

Here is the 2nd installment of my blogging buddy's challenge: "Write about your daily routine."

5:35  My day begins. The alarm clock with the obnoxiously large (3 inch tall green neon) numbers (designed for profoundly blind people to see even with their glasses off) blares a local country gospel station. Not a particular fan of country gospel so it gets me out of the bed pretty quick like.

5:50 My first order of business is to grab a cup of Gevalia coffee (Amaretto) with a hint of cream (Chocolate) and cuddle up on the couch with my devotional book, Bible, and MP3 player. I take my showers at night so I gotta have a little java to tell myself I am conscious. (Just can't go to bed with the day's grime on me and it saves me time in the a.m.)

 

My best friend coffee pot and my cozy reading/meditating/praying spot
(notice the purple tuto on the back of the couch...I wonder who THAT belongs to?)

I have my devotions/prayer time in the a.m. because at night I am too dead dog tired to focus on anything and all I want to do is sleep. Starting the day with the Lord works best for me. I go to work happy and at peace and ready to tackle what the world throws at me.

At 6:30, the fireworks begin...and this little tornado wakes up.

Then, the breakfast making machine swings into action. I make 3 different breakfasts every morning. Sydney orders frozen pancakes and fruit. The hubs always wants scrambled eggs with diced ham and toast....and Mama winds up with a bowl of cereal. Hmmm... I am detecting a pattern here.

After breakfast, we tag team the whirlwind to get her dressed, clean, socked and shoed. We shuttle her into the car at 7:20 and off to work I go.

I teach 1/2 day 8th grade self-contained at Vista Academy. Let me say that again. I teach 8th grade SELF-CONTAINED....I'll let you process that for a moment. If you are a teacher, then you already have processed it and have deemed me clinically insane. That's okay...I have accepted it.

From 8:15 - 11:45, my 13 precious darlings receive full-blown, unadulterated, uncensored, full-blast, non-stop instruction in the 4 core subjects. I teach a potpourri of Literature, Writing, Algebra I, Pre-Algebra, 8th Grade Math, Chemistry, Physics, Geology, Biology, and American History...all at the mastery level required to pass the G.E.D. test. Needless to say, by 11:45, my brain is a bowl of oatmeal.

At 11:45, I pick up Syd (who is conveniently at a small daycare within my school...nice...) and head home. I put the cyclone down for a nap (which she does without protest nearly every day) and start Job # 2.

My husband and I own our own Physical Therapy Home Health contracting company called....

I designed this logo myself. Not exactly happy with it...but it will do.

12:30 - 2:30

I make phone calls, fax evals, route therapists, call my husband, text therapists, coordinate with nurses, call my husband, make copies, bill agencies, create invoices, pay employees, call the C.P.A., verify treatment frequencies, make copies, cuss out Quicken 2011, reconcile accounts, and wade through 348 sticky notes that my hubs has left for me on the desk of things I need to do.

In essence, I am a secretary that doubles as wife. This relationship has been an interesting one. Some people can work with their spouses. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I love my man, but sharing a desk with him is not God's will for my life.

2:30 - ??

At 2:30, the Energizer bunny wakes up and then it is play time until "Da Da" gets home around 5:00, 5:30, 6:00, or 6:30, or 7:00, or 7:30, or maybe 8:00. Not only do we have a contracting company, but my husband is still out in the field himself. He loves physical therapy and his patients.

When he drags in the door, I throw dinner at him, bathe the baby, read to the baby, and HE puts the baby to bed around 7:30.

Waiting for Daddy

We do not have T.V. at our house, so evenings are pretty productive. I blog, I clean house, I grade papers, I read to Syd, I play piano, I fold 2 1/2 loads of clothes, empty the dishwasher, visit with hubs, and possibly go for a walk. On Mondays/Tuesdays, I leave Syd with my fully competent husband and I go play soccer at an indoor soccer field with a bunch of ladies that need to release pent up aggression...Ahhh...I'm not any good, but smacking the ball into somebody's shins just makes me giggle...and then they return the favor. I limp home sweaty and destressed.

We hit the hay around 11:00...and the whole process starts over again.

It's wild. It's woolly. It's wonderful.