A Pigeon From Hell

First, a public service announcement: The trick to drinking 64 oz of water a day? Well, that's 8 measuring cups. So drink 2 cups when you get out of bed, 1 cup before lunch, 2 cups when you get home from wherever you spend your day, 1 cup before dinner and 2 cups right before you get back into bed.  Voila. Now, on with the moodiness:

Seems like a lot of people I know are sort of glad the holidays are over. Ready to get back to normal. Ready to settle into familiar routines.

I'm sort of torn on this. I'd like to settle into a routine, but I'd prefer one that doesn't involve getting up early and going to work or, conversely, losing the house and starving to death.

Part of my reluctance stems from the fact that my sleep patterns reverted to my preferred hours of passing out around midnight and waking up around 10 a.m. This did not mesh well with my attempt to go to bed at 10 last night, as I was still wide awake and flopsy at midnight.  And then up at 3:30.

But more of my post-holiday letdown is because there isn't really a "return to normal" aspect in the Blogger household this year.  Yes, we all go back to our assigned daily desks, but ... Stuff at work has shifted in several ways -- small ways for me that will require minor adjustments (at least, at first,) and large ways for NYAB that will require major ones. And of course, when his life adjusts, so does mine.  I'm still waiting to see how it all shakes out. 

Not to mention Congress comes back tomorrow. No grace period for the wicked.

And there's an inauguration in 15 days. I'm probably the only person on earth looking at Jan. 20 on the calendar and going, "Yeah, I could sleep through that whole traffic nightmare and civic love-fest and the near certainty of bad planning executed poorly in the media and be juuuust fiiiine." Except, of course, it's MY JOB to be part of that bad planning and poor execution.  Thpt. And I am still trying to figure out if "federal holiday" means the Young Prince is off school that day or what.

And, good grief, the YP.  What is the second half of kindergarten going to rain down on him? Will he shape up and figure out what he needs to do to skate by the authorities? Or is he going to continue to require Unflagging Attention?  And just how does one teach an only child to be self-motivated? He clearly knows everything he is supposed to, and he executes with aplomb and only minor aggravation if I am towering over him with my boot on his neck saying, "DO IT," but when the boot is removed he flies all to pieces.  One friend suggested I pay him for services rendered autonomously.  Another suggested ignoring him and letting him do or not do things and face consequences at school. A third said something is bound to happen eventually that will make him care about it and I should really just lighten up it's only kindergarten for pete's sake sheesh.

Here's hoping against hope the holiday break tripped some behavioral trigger in him since clearly it didn't do much for me... but I am swearing less and more conscious about doing it. And drinking more water.

Comments

[lane]

Have I made a suggestion yet? I hope not, because reading that I realize that I have no fit advice, and only hope mine comes up having his father's sense of self-discipline, and my great skin.

[ardentdelerium]

What does the subject line have to do with the post? is the YP a pigeon? Is pigeon slang for something I am unaware of?

[average blogger]

Ardent -- it's a line from the Pretenders song Back on the Chain Gang. Returning to work, school, jail ... all the same. :D

[ardentdelerium]

I even have that song. Bad Me!