Groundhog Day

 

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New day, same old crap — could that really be my life’s slogan?  When that blaring alarm goes off in the morning, I often feel like that little old man from the Dunkin Donuts commercials…..except, in my case, it’s time to make the Pop-Tarts.   Wake the wee ones, get them dressed, serve the breakfast slop, rush to school, pick up from school, serve the lunch slop, rush to the next activity, serve the dinner slop, bathe the wee ones & put them to bed, serve the adult dinner slop, clean the dishes, tackle some laundry, drag myself into bed to briefly pass out from exhaustion — just in time to wake up and do it all over again!  Of course, we do have some kinks in the schedule every now and then (i.e. a temper tantrum that follows my refusal to allow snowball fights on the way to the car when we’re already five minutes late for the tardy bell at school.)  Could I really do this job with my eyes closed?   How did Bill Murray finally get himself off that hamster wheel in the movie?   I often tell my husband that I should leave a how-to manual for him in case anything ever happens to me.  Even though I know I can steer with no hands, this ship would most definitely sink faster than the Titanic without me at the wheel.

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