This time, it's for good. We're moved in and life is settling into a comfortable and extremely domestic routine. I love it.
While I was away, I had an interesting thing happen to me. My son has been taking martial arts classes through the continuing education program our school district provides. One day, while waiting for his lesson to finish up, I had a discussion with the gentleman in charge of setting up and scheduling the classes. I won't bore you with the details, but the end result was a tentative agreement for me to teach a class or two this fall on homemaking skills.
Being the organizational and planning freak I am, I threw together a syllabus. Not for one class. Oh, no. This is me we're talking about.
I planned enough for FOUR EIGHT-CLASS courses.
You think I'm joking?
I was ecstatic. In my head, I could almost hear the ka-ching for each student I would have, who then would tell others and I would have to limit the number of people who could sign up for my classes and there would be a waiting list because my classes would be just that good. I would be the best continuing education instructor EVER and it would work out because I could teach those classes while my son was taking his lessons so there wouldn't be any additional demands on my time (besides planning and preparing for each class which would take much time at all)! Plus, I could blog about each class and it would be a two-for-one and it would be amazing!
I may have been hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline at the time. It happens.
When my husband came home, he flat out told me I'm crazy. He also told me I'm not teaching four courses.
I reluctantly agreed. On both counts.
Once my diet-Pepsi-induced euphoria dissipated, I went to toss my meticulously rewritten list in the trash can when it dawned on me - I may not be teaching the courses, but that was no reason to throw away a perfectly good syllabus for months of blog posts.
It has been filed away for future use along with dozens of other ideas I've had over the past few months.
This is where I would write a witty conclusion that wraps it all together in a nice and neat little package. However, my children have decided that instead of taking advantage of their screen time (which is also my writing time) to play video games, they'd rather interrupt me every two minutes. My train of thought has been derailed.
Yes, I'm definitely back - distractions and all.
And it feels soooo good.