Saturday...

Growing up there was a song that we would sing:

"Saturday is a special day, it's the day we get ready for Sunday."

It goes on to list a few things that you do on Saturday so that when Sunday rolls around, you can have a nice, calm, enjoyable, work-free, Sabbath day.

Except that tune gave me chills like the creepy music in Jaws.

Saturday meant work, work, work. As an adult, I totally get it. The family is all home (mostly-you know in between soccer games, dance, wedding showers, etc.) and it's time to get a few things done while you've got a captivated (or captive, if you ask them) audience. As a kid I HATED Saturdays!!!

Today we:

washed all the bedding

washed all the clothing possible

washed walls and doors

washed windows

dusted blinds

vacuumed

edged the carpets

dusted base boards

washed toys

cleaned the bathrooms

changed out winter clothes for summer ones (weather better cooperate with that!)

cleaned bunny cage

cleaned cat's litter box

I heard the girlies muttering to each other throughout the day things like:

"We've been cleaning forEVER!!"

"I just want to go outside."

"I don't even like to clean!"

"This is taking up the whole day!"

At 6:30 p.m. One longingly was looking out the window. For a quick second I realized I had turned into Phil from Modern Family's episode a couple weeks ago. This type of cleaning is not uncommon in our house. Doing it all in one day is. Part of me wanted to keep the troops going, get it all done, check everything off the list.

Then the haunting tune "Saturday is a special day..." came into my mind. I didn't want my kids to remember how before we left to go to Ukraine we worked them like horses. I want them to remember us all working together and then playing together.

I hollered at everyone to get outside "pronto" and play while we still could.

They jumped on the trampoline, played on the swings, monkey bars and teeter totter. We had a pizza picnic outside until it became too cold (that's what happens when you don't eat until 8).

I'm starting to freak a little about being gone from my kiddos for so long. I keep thinking that about my kids in Ukraine, too. That I've been away from them for so long. That keeps me going. That and some chocolate chip cookies:)