It’s Saturday morning and I need to get to the shops quickly, before nine o’clock if possible, so I can get in and out in the shortest possible time.
I’ve got a lot to do today. Dance classes start at 11am, someone needs to be dropped off at a birthday party at 2pm, a friend is coming for dinner around 6pm.
Peter used the car last and where did he leave the key?
“Quick, where’s the car key? Where is it?”
“Here, I’ll get it for you.”
“Hurry up. Take Jacob away, he won’t let me go. Get off my leg, child, I have to go! Here he is. Quick, take him someone! You’re all moving so slowly.”
“Relax. You always get like this on Saturdays.”
It’s true. Every Saturday morning I get a big case of the grumps, because it’s our busiest day of the week and I probably expect to get too much done during it.
Things get off to a more relaxed start, with a little lie-in, but soon the fact of having six bodies in the house, with all the associated mess and additional food preparation, as well as the various errands quickly gets to me and I begin to bark orders at Peter and the children.
Every little thing out of place irritates me. Every time I have to repeat myself annoys me. I bump into small children as I rush about the place, knocking them over like skittles.
It’s dreadful, and it’s become a habit I have to stop.
I know that one of the best things we can do as parents in raising secure, warm, and faith-filled families is to create, as much as possible, a happy atmosphere at home every day. Mums are pretty important for setting the tone of the home, and I set a pretty bad tone most Saturdays.
To make things easier for myself I’ve already moved my grocery shop from Saturdays to Friday mornings. But the main thing to do is to maintain the perspective that whatever is bothering me at the time will pass.
I have to remember that even on the most demanding days I am surrounded by the gorgeous little faces of four people who, to me, are the most fascinating and amazing creatures in the whole world.
And I have a husband who is gracious enough to return my apologetic hug and laugh off my narkiness.
It’s unrealistic to say that I will never be in a bad mood on a Saturday morning; sometimes I probably will.