Hammock calling

It is a lazy Sunday morning with Husband and kids at home. Feel like just lying in my hammock (yes,that is my hammock in the picture you see.I love looking at those hills) and watching the world go by. But there is so much to do. There is the book sale that I want to go to. There is my book shelf which is overflowing with books, which I have been meaning to rearrange. The kids studies have to be supervised.(Monday morning blues are already setting in).As usual, any homework that has to be turned in has a magical way of reappearing only when there are 3 minutes left to board the school bus! Today I plan to pre-empt that. School books shall be thoroughly checked, and a third degree interrogation shall be carried out to extract any information about verbally told assignments!(Usually these are the ones that are conveniently forgotten!)I am in a super-mummy mode today.

But sadly that means sacrificing what I want to really do. Like catching up with a dear friend through chat. Like the luxury of a long bath. Like going for that pedicure. Like writing that poem which is waiting to get out of my head. Like having some time to myself, to write, without constant cries of “mummy-Mummy-MUMMY”

How is it that kids do not pester their fathers? How do fathers get all the time in the world? Why are dads never interrupted when they read their newspaper? How come dads get to watch their NBA and ESPN and a million other things on T.V without once getting disturbed by the kids? Or does this happen only to me?

I can hear my hammock calling me, but it will have to wait.