I’ve made it through another work week. I am starting to sound like a broken record in terms of the mental and physical fatigue I feel by the time the weekends arrive.

I feel like I am on a personal quest to discover how to not spend every weekend, looking like a spring slug, trying to recuperate from the work week.

I wonder if other working moms are this exhausted every weekend?

Is it just me?

I am not new to my job, so the whole notion of “getting acclimated” to the schedule shouldn’t matter.

I am not new to my kids, they’ve been around almost 17 years.

No matter how well I plan, no matter how many crock pot meals I pre-plan in order to save me from frantically thawing out freezer burnt chicken, no matter how many car pools I arrange to shuttle the kids, when Saturday arrives, I am run-over-by-a-truck exhausted.

In my own defense, okay, maybe rationalization, I don’t have a normal sit-behind-a-desk type job. I am in my car, rushing from one appointment to the next, answering messages at stop lights on that device that I have a love-hate relationship with: the Blackberry.

I’ve made a concerted effort recently to take deep breaths during the week when things get harried. It’s safer than red wine, and not against company policy. And, I’ve seen a teeny improvement in my ability to manage my ridiculous stress. But, another Saturday has arrived, and all I can think about is becoming one with the bed. My husband is thrilled. Me? Not so much.

I don’t want to look back on my life and wonder where it went. Right now, I can barely locate last Monday, much less the last few months or years. I am not quite sure when I went from 20 to 40. I certainly don’t want to be 60 searching for 40!

For now, I’ll put one foot in front of the other, just move on the weekends, and find a few things that are just mine to do. One of the benefits of having teenagers, other than the fact that they can teach you all kinds of  amazing eye rolling techniques, is that they are fairly self sufficient.

I’m going to embrace my barely-40ishness-working-mom life, remind myself to feel blessed that I have bigger kids who don’t need diapers or babysitters (not that they wouldn’t love a cute babysitter) and find some time to recharge the Shannon batteries.

Stay tuned. I am sure I will need regular recharging. If I disappear, I forgot to plug myself back in. Or, I was just too darn tired to try.