When going with the flow means $h!+ doesn't get done

I have always prided myself on being a laid-back kind of girl. No rigid routines. No crazy procedures. No Meatloaf Monday,  Taco Tuesday at our house. Nope. The words that I use to describe myself are words like "easy going" and "flexible."

Those are adjectives that I'm happy to be associated with. (Yes, I know I just ended a sentence with a preposition, but because I'm rolling with the punches, I'm happy to look the other way.) But I've reached a point in my life where the going with the flow means shit doesn't get done.

Appointments get missed because they weren't immediately put into the family calendar that resides on our phones. Late night writing sessions occur because suddenly instead of having four weeks to get eight articles written, I have two days. Boys go commando under their shorts (not that they're complaining) because I forgot to wash the load of dirty underwear sitting in the hallway. The gym membership goes paid for, but unused, because the thought of "I need to exercise" somehow doesn't translate into actual exercise without some planning and dedication.

It's time, I'm afraid, for me to pull out the "s" word. No, not the one I've already used. The other one. The one that makes me want to a choke a little bit just saying it.

"Structure."

I'm envisioning before and after school checklists for the kids. Family calendar meetings on Sundays after church to plan for the week ahead. A writing schedule for myself so that all of my assignments get the attention they deserve. A routine school-work-gym schedule that fills everyone's needs.

In some ways, the implementation of more structure in my life feels a little like my carefree self has been defeated. That there will be some anal list-maker type standing over my shoulder saying "I told you so." (Sally from Mike Myers' "The Cat in the Hat" movie, anyone?) Yet there is a part of me that is deliciously tempted by the promise of order and sanity.

Maybe I will find that being a little more organized in my approach to life will actually leave more room to be easy-going, instead of rushed and harried, trying to catch up in those places where I've fallen behind. Or maybe it will suck.

Who knows? But I'm willing to give it a try.

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"Happy" Sunday

When I was growing up, we used to have a phrase in our house that was reserved for one particular day of the week. It was "Happy Sunday" and we used it to mean exactly the opposite of what it sounds like.

Sundays in our house were generally crabby. Parents dreading the start of the work week and barking out orders to pick up the house; kids putting off due-on-Monday homework and bickering and fighthing as a result of not enough sleep. By about two or three o'clock in the afternoon, at least one or two of us kids would roll our eyes and declare "Happy Sunday!" in our most cynical voices.

And now I am a grown up and it's Sunday in our house. I'm the one barking out the orders and wishing that homework/dishes/laundry/bills had been attended to earlier in the weekend. And my children are the ones saying, "Please! We're not going to clean again!" (You know because they just cleaned their rooms seven days ago.)

Truthfully, today I would love to play "Mommy's legs are broken and she can't get off the couch." If for no other reason than I could say that we honor the 4th commandment, "Keep holy the day of the Lord."

But there will be no clean dishes for dinner tonight and no clean underwear for school/work tomorrow. Of course, the latter wouldn't bother Robbie and Charlie; they prefer going commando anyway. (Why is that? If there are any men/boys reading this, can you please explain the appeal of going commando?)

And so, I carry on the tradition started when I was a little girl. And hopefully by dinner time tonight, the tasks will be done and we can all settle into the family room for a little "America's Funniest Home Videos." Then might actually feel like a happy Sunday.

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Of course, it's only after I'd taken 15 minutes to write this that I realized the irony in me going on about how much there is to do, yet I'm sitting in this chair, doing something that clearly could wait!