{ a day of rest }

{assignment 6 of school days seminar- subject: write away: Labor Day}

Ahhh, the Holidays. I just love them. I make it a conscious effort to refrain from anything work related. No dishes, laundry, toilet cleaning, etc. Complete and total goof-offingness.

And then I contemplated the N A M E of this Holiday.

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L a b o r D a y

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The definition of this delightful Holiday goes like this:

Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country. . . In 1884 the first Monday in September was selected as the holiday, as originally proposed, and the Central Labor Union urged similar organizations in other cities to follow the example of New York and celebrate a "workingmen's holiday" on that date.

A workingman's holiday- and for the sake of woman's rights activists out there {and male smart-alecs}, I will include women in this category.

As I pondered all the Labor Days that I have been privileged to experience in my 27 years of life, I can't think of O N E that was spent 'relaxing'. I've racked what's left of my brain several times.

Did we ever do anything as a family?

Why, yes. Yes we did. But it was not on a family vacation to some exotic regions of the world, or even 20 miles away from our home for that matter.

Our Labor Days? Full of Labor.

Our Exotic Getaways? The front and back yard.

Our Adventures? They included: Deep cleaning of every appliance, cupboard, drawer and the recesses of under one's bed; the pulling of every last piece of vegetation not intentionally planted by my mother; mowing, edging, fertilizing and watering of the lawns, etc.

Our Travel Rewards? A bar-b-que at the end of the day with the counseling of parents on how we were building 'good work ethics'.

I think the definition of Labor Day wasn't made clear to my mother as a child. It's still unclear in her mind. I called to talk to my dad this morning, but he had to get off the phone and finish his 'chores'.

It wasn't ever a bad thing. I learned a lot about good 'work ethics'. We were not paid to do chores- it was expected of us. There were no silly games involved, just a 'hurry up and get it done so you can play' mentality was instilled. I learned how to properly sort laundry, clean toilets and scrub dishes because of Labor Day. {Which consequently came along every Saturday at our home.} Not a bad life at all, but lacking slightly was the element of 'Holiday Fun'.

So even though I learned a lot about 'doing the job right', this Labor Day I will do things a little differently with my kids.

Our Labor Day? Laboring on our forts and lego towers.

Our Exotic Getaway? The corner of the bedroom, lying on blankets {or in forts} next to a mountain of books. {It's still over 100° outside people- we're not going out of the house.}

Our Adventures? Baking of unhealthy delights, playing a game of chase/tickle monster {to burn off said unhealthy delights}, and maybe a movie or two thrown in there {to rest from said game of chase/tickle monster}.

Our Travel Rewards? I get a break from being a 'mean mommy' for a day. {Okay, maybe not a complete break.}

A N D . . . {here's the best part} . . . I'll leave the R E A L Labor Day to Saturdays.

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So what were your Labor Day's like growing up? Full of Labor or Lounging? Weeding or Reading? Watching Parades go by, or Blisters form?