The Sunday Shakes

Last Sunday, here in KC, we got one of the biggest snowstorms the city had seen in years.

It was one of those rare times when the weathermen (and women) predicted huge amounts of snowfall and we actually got it.

The snow was accompanied by blustering winds that made seeing past a few feet virtually impossible.

So naturally, our kids were out in the snow almost immediately.

They lasted, I don’t know, maybe 20 minutes before complaining about cold everything and shredding all their crap on the back porch.

About 4pm, we were all hunkered down. The fire was going, we were in sweatpants, the hot chocolate was cooling, and we were content being inside.

Oh, and all the crap was still laying by the back door.

Then the doorbell rang.

A neighbor and his kids, inviting us to go sledding.

I wanted to say heck no, but naturally, the kids were ready to brave it again.

So out they went. And since the neighbor was out there with his kids, out I went too.

For a while there, almost an hour actually, the best parts of childhood were on display.

Sledding, snow-angeling, snowball fighting, dads pushing kids to go faster on the sleds and vice versa.

Another dad and his kids came, then a few other neighbor kids as well.

It was terrific.

And to cap it all off?

In the middle of the sledding, we got the “snow day” call, which about broke the loudest outdoor noise record with all the kids’ screams.

But like all good things, it came to an end.

About 5pm, when we ran out of daylight, one of the dads said,

“Well, the Sunday shakes are about to set in…”

You know exactly what he means.

That feeling that sinks in on Sunday evenings when you realize Monday is on deck.

If your business, job or career is awesome or awful, I think it hits most of us at some point.

The reality that the weekend is coming to a screeching halt and the responsibility, pressure and production is ready to ramp back up.

For many years, I denied that feeling. I pushed it down deep and swore that I’d make Mondays just as amazing as Fridays.

In fact, a few years ago, I even wrote a post I now regret about how I told our kids to make the most of Mondays since they’re 1/7th of their life.

In essence, I may as well have forced a smile on them and put on a “Be Happy” sticker on their shirts.

Good intentioned advice, sure. And sometimes, really true.

But other times Mondays just kind of suck. And even when they don’t suck, sometimes we feel like they might, especially on Sunday evenings.

Instead of pretending they skip our homes and hearts, let’s tell each other when the Sunday shakes set in like my neighbor did.

Admitting it and talking about it will lead to more meaningful Monday I imagine.

Not just ones we dread when the Sunday shakes set in.

 

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