I should have gotten up at two. That’s what I told my husband this morning when he was leaving the house at four.
Instead, I got up at three, when he did. He headed out early this morning to help neighbors brand. I was hoping to send some mail with him to drop off at the Post Office in Sumatra, since he’s headed that way anyhow. Specifically, I need to be getting copies of the rules for our upcoming ranch rodeo sent in the mail to entered teams, as the event is less than two weeks away.
There was no time yesterday to get the mail ready to go. Our day was a frenzy of planting seedlings (which I’m pretty sure won’t survive) in the garden, transferring the clean laundry from one pile to another pile in a different room, vacuuming up spilled Cheerios, and making cookies (because sugar intake is absolutely necessary for maintaining this sort of lifestyle). I don’t know exactly what I accomplished yesterday, but by the time the kids were in bed, I was toast.
So I got up at three this morning and got to work addressing envelopes and putting a final check on the paperwork that needs to go out. The early bird catches the worm, right? Beau got dressed at the same early hour and went to the barn to saddle, then pulled back by the house with the pickup and loaded trailer before he left. Because I had told him I needed him to take the mail with him.
Only… I didn’t have the mail ready to go yet. And he needed to be leaving lest he be late for the neighbor’s branding. So he left without it. But the mail really needs to be mailed out sooner rather than later. And the Post Office is 26 miles away, so now I need to decide if the mail really, absolutely has to go out today… so much so that I would load up three kids and drive to the Post Office… or if it can wait until Thursday, when Beau will be headed to another branding (the mailman only comes to our house on Porcupine Creek once a week, on Friday).
Sigh. I choose to be a mother first and everything else second. That means the only chance I have to work on my own projects — to sit down at my desk and think clear thoughts without a baby tugging at my shirt and a 3-year-old bouncing on the bed to my left and a 5-year-old asking a hundred questions — comes through rising at ungodly hours. And no matter how early I get up, I never seem to have enough time to get everything done.
I’m definitely not getting my beauty sleep. Please don’t judge me.
© Tami Blake