I look so forward to the days that both children are in school. Then I immediately feel guilty for thinking/writing such things. I am a mom. This is what I do. How can I want to escape it so badly?
I did some thinking before drifting off to sleep last night. I am not OK with the amount of yelling that has been going on lately in this house. Maggie yells, then Nicholas yells, then I yell to be heard over them telling them not to yell. When I yell, Nicholas screams. Then Maggie yells louder so that she can be heard to defend herself from any blame that the yelling started with her.
It must stop.
So I decided this morning would be a fresh start. The world is getting a fresh start right about now, so how about a new beginning for our household too?
And that lasted though getting Nicholas ready. Then Maggie woke up. We hugged. We talked. Then I asked her to start getting ready for school. And all hell broke loose. She dawdled mercilessly. I lost patience easily. I sunk to the level of threatening her with no time for breakfast before we had even been together a half an hour.
Part of the problem (other than her mercilessly dawdling) is that today is Thursday. Which means they both go to school. With the holidays, Nicholas being sick, my husband coming home unexpectedly last week, I haven’t been alone since before Christmas. I need this time. I can taste it when I wake up on Thursdays.
Then after the great energy it takes to get the children out the door, I come home and wander around in circles like a puppy looking for something to do. I have plenty to do. But I get this alone time so rarely, that I feel I must not squander it, thereby putting pressure on myself during my me-time. That hardly seems the way to go about recharging my batteries.
Another concern that is tearing me up, is that Maggie will be starting kindergarten in seven months. I want so badly to enjoy this time with her before she goes off into the real world. But I’m not. We trudge through one day at a time. I’m becoming more of a nag with each passing day. The silly games we used to play end up with one or both of us in tears or angry. I have lost the ability, at least for today, to have fun with my daughter. That is one of the saddest realizations I have ever made.
Maybe it’s my mood. Maybe it’s too much to do and not enough time. Maybe I need to put some of my desires and dreams back on hold until I can give them the time that they need. Maybe I am cutting myself off at the knees as a parent so that I can be a person again.
If I had felt this way as a parent when my children were younger, I wouldn’t have been able to stay at home with them. Yesterday I looked at the clock and realized it was only 5:15pm. It felt like 9pm. I actually thought to myself If I went and got a job, I would just be getting home now, with a twinge of jealousy. Except that is the worst answer to this dilemma that I could possibly come up with. I would be miserable.
I think to solve my state of mind issues right now, I need more time away. Except that more time away just makes me want even more time away. There is a possibility I am not taking enough time away, so therefore a few moments away makes me realize how awesome some real time away would be. If I could get away long enough to miss it, I could solve my problem. Unless I didn’t miss it. Unless I have used up my mommy quota.
Maybe I need to relax all my wishes for organization and books read and projects completed. I need to put away my to-do lists. I need to let the house look like crap and not care about it. I need to seriously sit around and do nothing in the moments that I am able. I could watch a TV show without feeling like I need to be updating my address book and checking my mail all at the same time. I guess I just need a break.
Because if I can’t find a way to talk to my children with love in my voice than the last 4 1/2 years of giving of myself don’t mean shit.
(and after rereading this to check for “grammatical errors” I am sitting with tears streaming down my face at the lowest point of my mothering life.)