For some, Monday is the worst day of the week. The weekend is over and it represents the longest wait until the next Friday. A full week of work, running to appointments, realizing you can’t get anything done around the house, knowing you won’t see the clothes you put in the washing machine dry for days and eating meals that are less than inspired starting with Sunday’s leftovers make Mondays the clear winner for the worst day award.

For me, it’s Wednesday. Wednesday is my least favourite day of the week because it’s the day we live like drifters out of the mini-van running from one activity to the next.

We eat full meals while in transport and plastic bento boxes glued with sesame seeds wind up wrapped in a swimming towel covered with sparkly glue from the morning’s art class.

We wear clothes we meant to either remove the stains from or change out of before walking out the door—too late.

We leave the house when it’s light and return when it’s very, very dark.

The violin bow acts as a make-shift shoe horn making costume change number seven possible under strict time constraints.

We eat cereal for one or all three meals on Wednesdays, not including whatever we toss from the front row to the third in the van sometimes leaving Ritz medallions in a Domino pattern bowled over by a diaper I couldn’t bring myself to deposit in the rec centre change room garbage. At least not two weeks in a row.

I chase the baby up and down cement staircases trying to lure her with books, raisins, more books, bigger raisins until she agrees to follow the bag of markers to the table.

All appears to be organized and under control but aside from family members, nobody knows the reason Chloe wants the markers. It’s not to show off her artistic talents on paper. She wants to write on walls, her legs and this week, her scalp with navy blue marker making textured, vein-shaped patterns throughout her hairline scaring kids and parents the rec centre over. This is actually an even more difficult task than you might think considering it was done through a bathing cap.