Climbing Up the Evening

Just finished—puff, puff—another 10 minutes—pant, pant—of stair-stepping! Geez, am I ever out of shape. But I love that exercise high afterward. Nope, I'm not exaggerating. I think my body remembers that high from the last time I was race-walking regularly . . . 4 years ago! And exercising for even a few minutes sure clears out a minutia-clogged brain. It's so much easier to justify to my boss (me) working out for just a few minutes than for a whole hour. And it's easier to get back into the exercise groove a tiny bit at a time.

Soon, the kid witching hour starts. I'll bet you know just what I mean. It's that time of evening before the spousal unit who works away from home gets in, when the kids are anticipating his arrival and are getting hungry, enough to whine, shriek, fight with each other, or bug Mom. Joy! Being responsible for both working and child care, I have to stretch my workday over a span of 12 or more hours, just to get in anywhere from 5 to 7 hours of billable work done. So when the spousal unit comes home and takes over child care and making dinner, I'm still working. I won't be finished till 7. "That's horrid!" you say. No, just tiring. But my kids get an available mom and my clients get work done by their favorite copyeditor, and I don't have to pay for child care. It'll get much easier when the 3-year-old eventually goes to school. I know from experience; that's just what happened when his older brother went off to school.

And now I have to call the almost-10-year-old in from reading his book-report book in the backyard. He has to write a thank-you note to his great-aunt for an early birthday present.