Well today is the official first day back at school. We got lunches packed, outfits laid out, hair do's created and still made it on time. There is all this planning and prepping but the feeling that you get when you look ahead and see your little girls strolling up to the big gates of school, that is a hard emotion to plan for.
Unfortunately my rock couldn't make it today, so I had to big girl it up myself. I kept thinking of things Rick would say. "This is a good thing." "She is so ready for school." "This is an exciting time." And yes, that's all true. But when it was time to leave Lex sitting on the carpet my heart just broke a little. She's my buddy. My morning coffee gal. And truthfully without her home, I feel a little lost. I'm looking forward to time with Jess and just getting a chance to catch me breath. But I do miss my girls.
My friend came over with her two girls and we were talking about the first week. I was really pleased that she was feeling exactly like I was. We both love our girls and love doing things for and with them. Personally I think I am too dependent on my kids. They are my happy thought. They complete me. And that scares me a little. I don't want to be rocking myself in a corner for weeks after they leave for college. I don't want my Mommyness to totally define who I am. So if anything this week, I got a little slap in the face. Come on now, your kids are going to leave and start the pull from Mom and Dad. It's good. It's normal. And oh so painful.
So I am setting some personal goals. I need some hobbies that fulfill and complete. I need to steal some time away with just my love so we can stay connected as a couple. Basically I need to find me. But for this week, I'm going to sulk just a little. I'm going to roam around directionless. I'm going to allow myself to soak in the change and figure out how to operate without my Lexi and my Gabby setting the tone. Those personal goals will just have to wait till next Monday.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Clocking Out
Unfortunately a good chunk of motherhood feels like, dare I admit, work. You throw on so many hats in a day, its hard not to feel like a worker bee.
The Waitress Job
Kids - "What's for breakfast"
Waitress - "Buttermilk pancakes"
Kids - "Is that all?"
Exit Waitress who runs to the kitchen, makes the pancakes from scratch, pours the milk, brews the coffee, tries her best to creatively shape the pancakes into appealing kid shapes, brings the food to the table, calls the kids to breakfast, call the kids again, screams for the kids to bring their lovely bottoms to the table, retrieves the pancakes from the table to zap since they are cold, sits down to enjoy breakfast, leaps up to mop up spilled milk, clears the table, loads the dishwasher, returns to her own untouched breakfast to discover someone has removed the whip cream and strawberry's from her own plate, then decides to forget breakfast since it's time to make lunches.
Trust me their are many other roles where the scrips runs about like the above. Now, don't get me wrong, payment of smiles and pictures of rainbows are enough to keep me going. But, like all employees when the time has come for me to clock out for the night, I want to be done. I pride myself on running a fairly streamlined evening program. There is dinner, baths, occasional dance mania, books and then to bed. I will allow for the occasional re-tuck, book retrieval, or cold water gathering. However, if I have too many requests, I have the strong need to pull out my timecard and start demanding my time and a half. I realize that I'm a salaried employee that isn't paid by the hour, but I get resentful of people cutting into my non-work time. As a Mom you feel like the amount of time that you actually just get to think about nothing but yourself is about 2% of your day. So when the boss starts asking for part of that 2%, I'm irked (my middle child's new favorite word - love it).
And like any disgruntled employee, do I have an answer, a solution to this problem. Nope, I'll just write in my blog and pour myself a glass of wine and remember that this is the job of a lifetime and someday I'll miss it.
The Waitress Job
Kids - "What's for breakfast"
Waitress - "Buttermilk pancakes"
Kids - "Is that all?"
Exit Waitress who runs to the kitchen, makes the pancakes from scratch, pours the milk, brews the coffee, tries her best to creatively shape the pancakes into appealing kid shapes, brings the food to the table, calls the kids to breakfast, call the kids again, screams for the kids to bring their lovely bottoms to the table, retrieves the pancakes from the table to zap since they are cold, sits down to enjoy breakfast, leaps up to mop up spilled milk, clears the table, loads the dishwasher, returns to her own untouched breakfast to discover someone has removed the whip cream and strawberry's from her own plate, then decides to forget breakfast since it's time to make lunches.
Trust me their are many other roles where the scrips runs about like the above. Now, don't get me wrong, payment of smiles and pictures of rainbows are enough to keep me going. But, like all employees when the time has come for me to clock out for the night, I want to be done. I pride myself on running a fairly streamlined evening program. There is dinner, baths, occasional dance mania, books and then to bed. I will allow for the occasional re-tuck, book retrieval, or cold water gathering. However, if I have too many requests, I have the strong need to pull out my timecard and start demanding my time and a half. I realize that I'm a salaried employee that isn't paid by the hour, but I get resentful of people cutting into my non-work time. As a Mom you feel like the amount of time that you actually just get to think about nothing but yourself is about 2% of your day. So when the boss starts asking for part of that 2%, I'm irked (my middle child's new favorite word - love it).
And like any disgruntled employee, do I have an answer, a solution to this problem. Nope, I'll just write in my blog and pour myself a glass of wine and remember that this is the job of a lifetime and someday I'll miss it.
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