It’s Tuesday, so it must be Bratwurst Day. No wait—it’s Wednesday and it is Vanilla Custard Day. Yesterday was Tuesday. Sheesh…I’m so confused.
Today is Wednesday, yesterday was Tuesday, and today we are musing about yesterday’s Bratwurst Day. Ok? I am counting on you to keep up.
Ever since Cole left to see his grandparents last week, my days have run amuck. Thank goodness he is coming home today, hopefully bringing rhythm and routine with him.
My mother is the queen of rhythm and routine. Mom makes a menu for the week, then goes to the bank and the grocery store on Mondays. Her to-do’s are listed on a little piece of scrap paper each morning as she drinks her coffee.
She makes her bed every single morning and changes her sheets on Sundays. Her dogs eat dinner at 4 p.m. She turns her phone off around 6 p.m. when she heads outside (weather permitting)—or inside when it doesn’t—to enjoy a bourbon and water for the cocktail hour. She takes off her makeup and puts on her robe around 9 p.m. before watching a little more television, and goes to bed around 10 p.m., but first she usually reads a little bit.
Raised on R&R, it almost impossible to escape the need for the same old same old to give some direction to your day. Cole’s early childhood teachers used to say that almost every upset with a small child could be avoided by using rhythm and routine to direct his or her day. When you are right, you are right. The ice cream vendor would be sitting outside school every day when I picked Cole up from school, but it was never an issue because Ice Cream Day was Friday. Every Friday, no matter what, we had ice cream—but never on a Wednesday because Wednesday wasn’t Ice Cream Day. Cole was born a clothes terrorist, so each day of the week had a color and a matching t-shirt or sweatshirt. Monday was always Purple T-shirt Day—it worked.
Throughout the grade school years we had lots of R&R. Bedtimes, baths, stories. I don’t cook, but I do like making bread so Cole and I made bread every Thursday. (Please don’t embarrass me by asking for my bread recipes unless you want my one very simple Waldorf School early childhood bread recipe.)
I’m not sure when R&R left my home. It might have been when Joe died; it certainly did not help matters and did leave us rather rudderless. In any case, I’m going to blame Joe. For the last two years Cole and I have managed mostly by the seat of our pants, doing what works. But while Cole was visiting his grandparents I realized just how amuck my routine had become. No wonder I could not get anything done or finish anything: I did not know what day I was supposed to do it on anymore. It was so much easier when Paperwork Day was always Tuesday morning, as opposed to deciding if I should do paperwork, patch the walls or finish up the closet I was organizing. Like Cole, my mind is less likely to argue with routine—“It’s Tuesday. Time to clean up our desk and sort our paperwork.” However, when presented with a choice and overwhelmed with decisions, my mind is usually going to say, “Let’s check Facebook.”
The (it shall not be named) year is starting, and I plan to sit down over the next couple of weeks and reacquaint myself with my good friends Rhythm and Routine and invite them back into my life.
Last night at about 7 p.m. I raced out of the house for a grocery store run. Luckily, there was one package of bratwursts left on the shelf. I came home and cooked them up to celebrate Bratwurst Day.
I have leftovers for tonight’s dinner, along with a little cole slaw and sauerkraut—dinner! Cole will know I am glad to see him. For dessert we will dine on Boston Creme Donuts. It’s Wednesday—Vanilla Pudding Day– the Boston Creme Donut filling–in case you needed help making the connection.
See you tomorrow!