Confessions from an Ominous Monday

pool selfie final

My 5 year-old has recently started using the word, ominous.

It’s hilarious…and also kind of impressive. I may be a writer and I may have even used the word once or twice in my life, but I had to consult other sources to make sure I actually knew what it meant.

Ominous: portending evil or harm; foreboding; threatening; inauspicious;
an ominous bank of dark clouds.

She was totally using it in the right context, and that made it even better.

So I bring you the tales…ahem, confessions…from an ominous Monday in the Schroeder house. (I think I might really like using this word…) ๐Ÿ˜‰

We were gone all weekend with some friends to their cabin in Wisconsin. It was fabulous. Good friends, sunshine, boats, tubing, food. LOTS AND LOTS OF FOOD. I gained five pounds. (I know, I know. Just stay off the scale, Mel.)

But of course, life had to return to whatever our normal is…and so I bring you the first ominous part of my Monday, which was also WHY I had to be on that darn scale.

Life. Insurance. It’s good and we should all have it. And, apparently, if you want to make sure things are in order if you die, they also make you get a physical. My hubby scheduled it for SEVEN A.M. ON. A. MONDAY.

Don’t worry, there is zero bitterness in my heart. Zero.

๐Ÿ˜‰

And so I dragged myself out of bed way too early for the dreaded step on the scale and then the blood draw. (Yes, blood. Grrr…) And I got to be reminded (because I accidentally saw the number I didn’t want to see) that I ate entirely too many nachos and cheese puffs over the weekend.

But we survived, and my daughter slept in until 8:30, so Monday was still looking like it might have some promise.

And then I walked into the kitchen and realized we were out of coffee.

Friends, this is NEVER a good combination on a Monday. Especially on a Monday.

I panicked slightly and then accepted that I would just have to go to the grocery store, which is not my favorite.

And then I remembered the K-cups and the fact that on mornings when I have to be somewhere, I use the Keurig. However…I was going to be home for the morning, and I wanted A. WHOLE. POT.

Don’t judge.

And so? I emptied the K-cups into the coffee filter and made my coffee that way, thus creating the most expensive pot of coffee the world has ever seen.

And Maelie woke up, and we were both just trying to figure out life and mornings again since, apparently, when you remove yourself from normal life for 48 hours, any and all semblance of routine flies out the window. She made her way through a few My Little Pony episodes, I folded a few loads of laundry, and then it was noon, and I was like, OH.

Well, we should probably do something with our lives today.

And so we went to Menard’s because I like to walk into stores like that and pretend I know what I’m doing. I bought two quarts of mustard yellow paint that I had the dude at the counter color match for me. And he didn’t tell me that buying a whole stinkin’ gallon was CHEAPER than two quarts. (So maybe his day is about to get a little ominous, too…) ๐Ÿ˜‰

And then I bought a picnic table, too, and made grand plans to create the whole thing, in its mustard yellow glory, on my lawn this week.

Except I can’t get over that I spent $36 on pAinT. I’m not entirely sure that’s ok.

Thus, the ominous Monday continues.

And Maelie and I manage to dash in and out of the grocery store, buying only what’s on the list…holy miracle of miracles, to be sure.

And we came home, and I realized that, due to my incredibly lazy morning, my step count was ridiculously low for the day. And yet, it felt like it was about 110 outside, and the pool was just begging for our presence. And so I dragged the cover off and we jumped in.

Except I still needed to get my steps in.

And so I ran laps. LAPS. In my daughter’s 12-foot-wide, 30-inch-deep pool.

And then I texted a friend and confessed the awesomeness embarrassment of lap running in a tiny pool with no privacy fence, and she told me how much she wished she was home and sitting on her front porch to watch the whole thing. See? True friends will always be there for you…and maybe laugh at you just a little, too. ๐Ÿ˜‰

And my daughter, as AWESOME AS EVER, actually took a selfie with me because she hasn’t quite reached that, please-may-I-hide-and-then-die-under-a-rock, phase.

And so…that was my ominous Monday, though I’m not really sure it was very ominous. (It was really fun to overuse a new word, though!) ๐Ÿ˜‰

And it’s about to get even more ominous because I’m tackling a new recipe, and while I am over-the-moon, excited about zucchini noodles, I’m pretty sure my hubby and daughter won’t be entirely on board with the whole, let’s-turn-our-veggies-into-pasta, thing. (Remember how I said I gained five pounds? I sort of wasn’t kidding. And so I’m determined to shed it THIS WEEK.)

For all the ominousness…there I go again…I’m smiling.

It was a really wonderful weekend…worth every pound. My daughter just continues to sparkle up my days, and I feel so incredibly thankful to have her in my life. And my husband…when he’s not grumpy with me about how much I spent on paint…is pretty great, too. (It’s gonna be 13 years in just a few weeks, and I kind of can’t wrap my head around that. How are we at 13?!?!)

It’s just been a good summer. And maybe next week I’ll write more about why that means so much.

Thanks for being here. I hope your Monday was a little less ominous than mine. :)

Sig

Comments

  1. Good one Mel! Thanks for my smile today. By the way you forgot to mention the OMINOUS weather! I am heading to Menard’s today for paint as well. Thanks for the purchasing tip. ๐Ÿ˜›

    • Funny…that was the context she was using it in. She claims she learned it from Word Girl…clearly I’m not watching enough PK-age TV. ๐Ÿ˜‰

  2. I never even drank coffee until I turned 35. Now, at 38, I can’t imagine life without it! Sounds like you had a great week!

    • Aaahhh…coffee. I’m just about to go pour my first cup for the day. :) SO good. Hope you have a great day, my friend!

  3. I think I did make the Menards paint guy’s day more ominous as well when I called and complained that he hadn’t alerted you to the entirely non-consumer-friendly method of paint pricing. If he had simply apologized, I would have gone a bit easier on him.

    Returning it and buying new paint at Home Depot felt good, even if it really didn’t achieve much.

    • I’m just glad you’re willing to take care of things like that for me…I hate making people feel bad even when they’re wrong. ๐Ÿ˜‰ Love you. :)

  4. You make me smile! The most expensive pot of coffee – ha! Your ominousness is actually quite delightful for the rest of us, so I think you’ve put a whole new spin on the word. Bravo for that! :)

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