Maybe it's because I've been working more lately. Maybe it's because the days are getting shorter. Or maybe it's because my youngest angel has started to bite people like he's Hannibal Lector. Whatever the trigger, I'm starting to wonder how much longer I can juggle it all well. Or at least moderately average.
You know that point in your life where you look around and you think, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep the balls in the air. Work has increased and I find myself working late (as in coming home at bedtime) about once a week, not to mention carrying the stress of work with me like a heavy weight. The Moose's schedule has increased to include two sports, scouts and religious education, plus there's homework. Peter's work schedule has him trading places with me when I get home. And the Rock has decided to start acting out at school.
It came to a head when I got a call that the Rock had decided to use his teeth instead of his words to express his frustration over a train with a "friend" - a very yummy friend it would seem. Pete picked him up later that day and the teacher asked if anything was going on at home because the Rock has been consistently bringing home multiple colors of "lights" a week (green=good, yellow=not-so-good, red=what-the-hell). No, nothing is going on at home. It's good to know that we are starting to resemble a crumbling family. But really, maybe something is. I think we all have been feeling like we are running on an out-of-control treadmill lately and I'm not sure why. Sure the kids are busy and we are busy but this seems like...more.
And this leads me to my natural conclusion that I must be doing something wrong as a parent. The age old debate of being a working mom or a stay-at-home has reared its ugly head again, even after 8 years of this delicate balancing act. As wise old Jackie O said, "If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much." Or as I say, "Don't fuck it up." I have a death fear that maybe I am. I cook, bake and clean instead of playing tractors or Pokemon. I schedule outings instead of sitting still. The Rock is turning three and as I am planning on testing 3 possible cake recipes this weekend for his upcoming birthday party, I think, maybe I should just sit down and stop.
I love these moments of self-doubt. Maybe the Rock is acting up because we've been running around like chickens lately. But maybe he's acting up because he's almost three and his name is Rocco. I will never know. But I think for today it's time to wrap up my workday, head home and catch the kids before they go to sleep. And this weekend, I'm turning off my work email on my phone. I'm going to need all my attention for my family, especially if I'm going to dodge the biter while I shout spelling words to my third grader.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Survivor-Mommy Style or Someone Please Vote Me Off This Freaking Island Already
Tonight's blog has been inspired from all the moms I know out there, but particularly my new hero mom that just survived a family vacation that ended with her toddler puking in the airport right before the flight was delayed. As soon as her plane landed home, she zipped off to urgent care, the pharmacy, and finally ended her day with doing laundry. I'm no Marine, but I think that deserves a Hurrah!
I find the more I talk to my mom friends or think of my own schedule, the verb that constantly is mentioned is "survive." I posted to my friend above that she "survived" her day. One of my mom friends and I talked about how sometimes surviving the day is success - that treading water and not drowning is sometimes the best you can do. And when I look at our weekly schedule, all I can say is that we are surviving it. The days where I commute 45 minutes to work, work a crazy day, commute home to pick up one boy, dress him quickly for football practice, scoop up the cat for his laser therapy appointment (yes, my cat is getting laser therapy. I know I know, blah blah about taking extra measures about an animal. Here's the thing, I love my cat and by some miracle it actually works), then take the boy to football practice, drive home with said lasered cat, make an allergy-free dinner for the second boy, realize that I haven't paid the daycare yet and it's Tuesday night, pick up the first boy from practice and get him fed and in the shower, put the little boy to bed, give the little boy a drink of water, put the first boy to bed, take the little boy to the potty, write out checks, and finally tell the little boy to "please for the love of God be quiet and go to sleep!", are actually the days that are considered slow days. And I have help. My single-parent friends, well, heaven help you because I'm losing it with a husband. You are amazing.
Sure, we set these schedules ourselves, according to the internet parenting experts. "It's up to us to say 'no'." And to them I say, screw you. My kids like sports and gym classes. They like scouts and music. They do not like religious education classes, but I signed a contract as a Catholic that said they had to attend until they are 27 and it's out of my control now. The reality is yes, we are overscheduled and we are doing our best by just surviving. Wouldn't it be nice if it were a little like Survivor? But instead of an island, it's actually your own house, with your children and their busy lives. Notice how the survivors get more and more gaunt and sickly looking as the show moves on. And once they are voted off the island, they come back all full and refreshed, showered and combed? In this Survivor game, you have to keep up with an endless series of tasks, like making dinner when you don't have any useful ingredients in the pantry while grabbing the bread knife from your toddler's hands (this actually happened in our house last night), searching for your son's hand cover for his brace/cast in a pile of laundry (this is a timed event), sewing a scout patch on a shirt (ha - good luck - I'd rather make a fire with two sticks), and putting together an "all about me" poster that doesn't look like you helped that much. When people are voted off the island, if you are left, your tasks just got harder because you just lost some help. No wonder you look gaunt and tired! I just ate dinner at 9 p.m. tonight - it was frosted mini-wheats and doritos. What the hell folks?! Please vote me off the island - I need that night to relax, take a hot shower, eat my favorite foods, and then I get to come back the next day in clean clothes and be a part of the jury. I can do that. We all just need a little break from our lives every once and a while. My husband and I are just trying to find a weekend to celebrate our anniversary and we are waiting for the 3rd grade basketball game schedule to be announced before we make a decision. Someone just needs to vote us off before we lose it!
If someone else were writing this, they'd end it with something sappy like, but when you win this Survivor game, you don't get a million dollars, but you get unconditional love, yada yada. But friends, wouldn't it be nice to know that surviving this time in our lives ended in a million dollars? Don't get me wrong - I'll take the hugs and kisses too but my kids would also appreciate that I could send them off to college for doing such a great job making it through their youth. And instead of sending my cat to laser therapy, I'd be going to the spa. Who wants to join me?
I find the more I talk to my mom friends or think of my own schedule, the verb that constantly is mentioned is "survive." I posted to my friend above that she "survived" her day. One of my mom friends and I talked about how sometimes surviving the day is success - that treading water and not drowning is sometimes the best you can do. And when I look at our weekly schedule, all I can say is that we are surviving it. The days where I commute 45 minutes to work, work a crazy day, commute home to pick up one boy, dress him quickly for football practice, scoop up the cat for his laser therapy appointment (yes, my cat is getting laser therapy. I know I know, blah blah about taking extra measures about an animal. Here's the thing, I love my cat and by some miracle it actually works), then take the boy to football practice, drive home with said lasered cat, make an allergy-free dinner for the second boy, realize that I haven't paid the daycare yet and it's Tuesday night, pick up the first boy from practice and get him fed and in the shower, put the little boy to bed, give the little boy a drink of water, put the first boy to bed, take the little boy to the potty, write out checks, and finally tell the little boy to "please for the love of God be quiet and go to sleep!", are actually the days that are considered slow days. And I have help. My single-parent friends, well, heaven help you because I'm losing it with a husband. You are amazing.
Sure, we set these schedules ourselves, according to the internet parenting experts. "It's up to us to say 'no'." And to them I say, screw you. My kids like sports and gym classes. They like scouts and music. They do not like religious education classes, but I signed a contract as a Catholic that said they had to attend until they are 27 and it's out of my control now. The reality is yes, we are overscheduled and we are doing our best by just surviving. Wouldn't it be nice if it were a little like Survivor? But instead of an island, it's actually your own house, with your children and their busy lives. Notice how the survivors get more and more gaunt and sickly looking as the show moves on. And once they are voted off the island, they come back all full and refreshed, showered and combed? In this Survivor game, you have to keep up with an endless series of tasks, like making dinner when you don't have any useful ingredients in the pantry while grabbing the bread knife from your toddler's hands (this actually happened in our house last night), searching for your son's hand cover for his brace/cast in a pile of laundry (this is a timed event), sewing a scout patch on a shirt (ha - good luck - I'd rather make a fire with two sticks), and putting together an "all about me" poster that doesn't look like you helped that much. When people are voted off the island, if you are left, your tasks just got harder because you just lost some help. No wonder you look gaunt and tired! I just ate dinner at 9 p.m. tonight - it was frosted mini-wheats and doritos. What the hell folks?! Please vote me off the island - I need that night to relax, take a hot shower, eat my favorite foods, and then I get to come back the next day in clean clothes and be a part of the jury. I can do that. We all just need a little break from our lives every once and a while. My husband and I are just trying to find a weekend to celebrate our anniversary and we are waiting for the 3rd grade basketball game schedule to be announced before we make a decision. Someone just needs to vote us off before we lose it!
If someone else were writing this, they'd end it with something sappy like, but when you win this Survivor game, you don't get a million dollars, but you get unconditional love, yada yada. But friends, wouldn't it be nice to know that surviving this time in our lives ended in a million dollars? Don't get me wrong - I'll take the hugs and kisses too but my kids would also appreciate that I could send them off to college for doing such a great job making it through their youth. And instead of sending my cat to laser therapy, I'd be going to the spa. Who wants to join me?
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