I love my children more than the grains of sand on the beach, and more than the droplets of water in the ocean. They are my sun, and my moon. I can’t imagine my life without them, and I am thankful every day that they’ve come into my life and fulfilled me as both a parent, and as a person.
They are driving me crazy. School starts tomorrow --- it won’t come quickly enough.
But that’s not why I’m going to Hell. I don’t think I’m that out of the ordinary for admitting that I’m glad school is starting up again. I imagine many of the parents … specifically moms … specifically, STAY AT HOME moms will be doing the Happy Dance in the school parking lot tomorrow morning right along with me.
I feel bad for families with dual-working parents in the summer, especially when the kids are too old for day care, but not old enough to stay by themselves. Lots of families we know have the hassle of trying to figure out what to do to keep their kids happy and busy and safe and entertained in the summer when neither parent is home during the day.
I also feel sorry for stay-at-home moms during the summer --- oh, wait, that would be **ME**. We love our kids, we really do. Personally, my kids and I have had a great summer --- lots of playing and swimming and hanging out and relaxing and getting to stay up extra late. Lots of spending quality time together --- laughing and going to Sonic and having sleepovers and spending time at the lake and making wonderful memories together.
And lots of arguing and bickering and whining and demanding. Lots of them insisting they are bored, then turning up their noses when I suggest activities. Lots of fighting over the computer. The biggest change for me is having them with me 24/7, when I’m used to them being in school. And I’ll admit that I’m more than ready for them to go back to school so I can have just a few hours a day to myself. Not that I’m going to be lying around eating bon-bons, or spending all day at the mall, or doing nothing but reading blogs ….. but simply to get the laundry done without having to make anyone lunch, or pay bills without being asked to referee an argument, or spend an hour of uninterrupted time on the computer, or even two minutes uninterrupted time in the bathroom. And to know it’s no longer my job to keep them happy and busy and safe and entertained every single minute of every single day.
So there. I said it out loud. “I am excited for my kids to start school tomorrow so I can go to Target by myself. So I can spend the day without the television turned to the Disney channel. So I can go out to eat in a grown-up restaurant for lunch. So I can spend a few hours with only myself for company … no tattling, no fussing, no fighting. SO I CAN POTTY IN PEACE.”
There. I admitted it, so sue me. But that’s not why I’m going to Hell.
I’m going to Hell because Blaine woke up yesterday morning with a head cold. Which mutated down his throat and turned into a stomach virus. Which caused him to wake up this morning puking his guts out, and to spend the entire day today lying on the bathroom floor with a pillow and blanket. When we left to go to the Meet and Greet your teacher this afternoon he had made it to the sofa. When we returned, he was back on the bathroom floor.
And when he called his doctor to try and get something for nausea, they told him they couldn’t get him in until tomorrow afternoon. And he said he understood, and would stay home until then.
So, the reason I’m going to Hell is because instead of rushing to his aid, with damp cloths and tepid Sprite and warm blankets and saltine crackers and lots and lots of sympathy, all I could think was, “You mean I’ve been waiting twelve damn weeks for a few measly hours of peace and quiet and you’re telling me you’re planning on staying HOME tomorrow????? Are you kidding me? You need to get better! Go to work! I want the house to myself tomorrow!!”
It’s what’s for dinner.