Saturday, September 15, 2012
When you are a mom to three young children, you learn not to create expectations, because what you want, desire, and plan for will not happen the way you wish. I've trained myself to put expectations aside so disappointed can't set in later; except for the first week of dayschool, that is. I mean, the kids would be in school afterall so they couldn't ruin it...or so I thought...and thats when dreaming of the first week of preschool began.
I dreamt of dropping them off and coming home to a quiet house for 3 or 4 hours twice a week and actually being able to concentrate on my thoughts. Visions of paying bills with no interruptions, doing laundry at record speeds, cleaning..maybe even deep cleaning circled my head. Meal planing, shopping lists, clipping coupons, organizing closets, files, and drawers would all get done. The photos cramming space on my computer would get organized on a external drive and 1500+ photos on my iPhone could finally come off. Oh, and not only would I finally get to write in my blog, but I'd be able to read blogs too! My sewing machine would come out of the closet and get dusted off, and I would plan to just sit on the couch in front of the Today Show with a cup of coffee and do nothing.
The dreaming didn't stop there. I dreamt about all the errands I could aimlessly run without being rushed by screaming-hungry-tired-fighting children. I'd get to the mall to return some clothes I've had for months and would browse shops for the most currant styles and try things on. The makeup counter has been teasing me to come by to get caught up on the latest trends. After months of looking like a ratty, messy mom I'd finally get my hair cut and colored and a mani and pedi would be essential. Lunch with my girlfriends from the design community would be scheduled on a sunny day and we'd sit outside and laugh and gossip about the industry I left less than two years ago and it would feel like yesterday.
My dreams were shattered. Do I even need to tell you that the kids found a way to ruin it? It really started the week before school. My husband was out of town for 5 days. And while we all manage well when he is not here and have a system down to science, his travel weeks are not only hard on him, but always leave the rest of us extra tired. The following week after he returns is like a hang-over. Everyone's a little extra needy and grumpy and going through daddy withdrawal. So the first day of school landed on a week that Paul had just gotten back in town and everyone still had a daddy hangover from the week before. They didn't want to get out of bed! Breakfast was made, clothes and lunchboxes were laid out ready to go. But kids were still asleep.
Not wanting them to feel rushed on their "first day". I softly woke them up. Over and over and over. I let them take their time getting dressed and eating and of course I had to spend time taking some photo's of their "first day". I got them to school late and then I rushed out of there to try to get a few necessary things done so maybe I could have some "me time" left at the end of it all. A quick and fast trip to the grocery store since we had no food in the house needed to be done first. Knowing my time was short before I had to pick them up I practically ran through the isles. I'm sure I had zombie hair, crazy eyes and sweaty armpits...so wouldn't you know, I ran into one of my kids classmates mothers, "oh, Jenny, how are you? Aren't you just loving your free time?" As I looked at her refreshing smile, perfectly groomed hair and freshly applied make up I wanted to vomit. She was "browsing" in the clothing section of Target explaining how she just got her hair done and then aimlessly walked through the mall before she got to Target; all the while I was worried my milk was going to go warm if I didn't get home to put the groceries up before I had to get the kids. I replied, "Well, it doesn't feel so free yet, but hopefully that will change." When she didn't get the answer she thought she would I realized she didn't want to dig any further and have me ruin her "free time". So I didn't ruin it for her and I didn't spit on her or pull her hair either like I wanted to. Instead I rushed to the check out line just to rush home to get the groceries put up before I rushed back out to go pick the kids up. Unfortunately reality didn't allow any "me time".
The kids were crazy every day I picked them up. Extra hyper, extra hungry and just bad. They were bad, bad, bad. I'm sure they were over stimulated and exhausted, but it translated to bad behavior which is unusual for them. Once everyone was finally in bed for naps, after an hour and a half of being bad, they slept just 30 minutes and woke up cranky, tired, and with ugly attitudes. I hardly recognized my own kids!