Yesterday was particularly crazy.
After a shitty night’s sleep and the inability to get myself up and moving before the kids woke up, I started off my day feeling behind the ball.
Frazzled.
Disorganized.
By 7:30 a.m. I was already short on patience.
I had the typical chaotic rush to get everyone in the car and down to the baseball field by 8:45 a.m for Number 3’s game.
Then, once we were there, we made the obligatory 47 trips back and forth from the field to the parking lot to get some forgotten but vital item from the car,
followed by a couple tantrums over which three kids would sit in the two chairs that I had shlepped over the sidelines to sit in.
Then someone had to pee.
And we did the pee relay.
Because unlike women, children don’t pee in packs.
They wait until you get back with one kid and then start the pee pee dance upon your return.
Why make one round trip to the portajohn when you can make 2? Or 4?
The next three hours were no different than the previous three.
Rushing.
Rushing to buy a present for a birthday party, rushing to get Number 4 to the birthday party, rushing to take a shower and write a post and get to a swim meet I had to coach by 1:00.
I pulled into the parking lot at the Y ten minutes late.
As I walked to the pool I got a text from my husband.
Number 6 and 7 left their blankies in the car.
Fuck.
It was 1:10….Naptime.
I ran to the pool to tell one of the head coaches I needed to go back home really quickly and drop off the blankies.
We only live five minutes from the Y. I’d be back in ten minutes.
“They can’t take a nap without their blankies?” the coach said.
Take a nap without their blankies?
BAHAHAHAHAHA! Clearly, the coach is childless.
I delivered the blankies and was on the deck by 1:30.
Where I remained until 6:00.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted.
I collapsed on the couch. The kids swarmed in.
I wanted to be happy to see them, but really, I just wanted to be left alone.
Number 4 was extra… Number4ish.
She wouldn’t stop talking, and she demonstrated no particular desire to listen to me.
I snapped something at her along the lines of Get away from me!
Ugh. Not exactly the parent I wanted to be, but I was shot.
Yesterday I wrote a post about taking five minutes to just stop and slow down.
I got up off the couch. I exhaled. I went into my room, took off my wet coaching clothes and put my pajamas on.
I sat on the bed and just…sat. Five minutes later I emerged from my bedroom.
My husband took Number 6 and 7 up to bed.
It was now a little more quiet. I was braless and much more comfortable.
I sat back down on the couch with Numbers 3, 4, and 5, Number 3 pressed play on the DVD player, and we all settled in to watch the next episode of Little House On the Prairie.
Number 4 recently learned how to braid hair. She wanted to practice.
“Mom, can I braid your hair while we watch this?” she asked.
There aren’t many things I like more than someone playing with my hair.
Pajamas. No bra. Little House on the Prairie. Hair braiding.
Not the Saturday night I would have dreamed about ten years ago. But it was pretty perfect last night.
“I would love that,” I said to Number 4.
And she looked at me and said, “You love me!”
“Of course I do,” I told her.
“Well, that’s the first time you smiled at me all day today, Mom… I’m glad you still love me.”
Yikes.
I’d like to think she was wrong.
I’d like to think that 8:00 last night was not the first time I had smiled at Number 4 during the course of the entire day yesterday.
But whether or not that was accurate, that’s how she felt.
And again I was reminded, sometimes it’s the kids who teach the parents.
So I guess I’d better go.
I’ve got some smiling to do.
VOTE ! VOTE! VOTE ! VOTE! VOTE ! VOTE! VOTE ! VOTE!
Leave a Reply