Sometimes, all you can do is wear your Iron Man socks. You know, on those days when you went to bed at 11:30 only to be awakened an hour later by a spouse who ate too much fan food at the hockey game and who really needs you to dig out the Pepto Bismol. Only, you're not sure it's the fried food that did it to him, and now you find yourself lying awake, tossing and turning because your washing machine just died, and the new one won't arrive for at least two more days. And you're sure you jinxed yourself when you joked earlier in the evening about how the absolute worst thing that could happen right now (I mean besides having to plunk down an unplanned-for chunk of change on a new washer) was for the stomach flu to rip through the household.
Being awakened by a queasy spouse at 12:30 wouldn't be so bad except that you have your alarm set for 3 am because you know you have at least two more hours of prep to do and are hoping to squeeze it in before all three kids are awake at 5. And, as you lie there wondering whether your spouse has the stomach flu, you also wonder how you always seem to find yourself in this position on Sunday night--you know, the one in which you really don't have time to sleep. But then remember how you've resolved to give the kids your undivided attention on Saturdays and Sundays because you know it's important to them--and to you--no matter how much other stuff you have to do. The problem is that no matter how hard you try to get ahead during the week, you invariably find yourself spending hours answering e-mails, corresponding with the kids' teachers, trouble-shooting with the school nurse on the phone (like right now as I am writing this post), or taking kids to and from therapy appointments, music lessons, and a sundry of other extracurricular things that seem to pop up out of nowhere (though, really, we all know it was on the calendar and you simply forgot to look at it).
The night before the Iron Man socks, I slept about 3 hours (Fitbit tends to count my 3-in-the-morning reading time as sleep). My middle-of-the-night reading session morphed into an early-morning potty-run-snuggle-fest-and-breakfast session with a certain three year-old. I'm sure I could be stricter with my "free time" and improve my organizational skills, possibly even getting some more z's in the process. But, I'm not sure how to do it while also being fully involved in both work and home life. So, until I figure it out, I will do the next best thing: