Last Sunday Shane worked for the third time in a row. But I was actually perfectly fine. I ran the Stairway to Heaven in the morning and I think that helped me to feel more sorry for Shane than for myself. And it was a good day despite him coming home at 8pm. Caleb had some buddies over, Eliza took a 2+ hour nap, Ana and Charlotte played happily with their friend across the street and I got to finish Charlotte’s dress and ruffle pants.
Then Monday happened. It’s baseball season. Caleb had practice from 4pm-6pm and then a Cub Scout swim thing from 7pm-8:30pm. I didn’t plan in advance so everyone got crap for dinner. I ate a coconut chocolate chip Clif bar.
I won’t go into all the little things that worked on me, but the biggest thing was that we spent 15 frantic minutes hunting for Caleb’s swim shorts. We finally found it but we were 20 minutes late.
It seems like this always happens with Cub Scout activities. Everything is last minute and we are never prepared. It’s chaotic and even though there might be some fun involved, it’s mostly disruptive to our family schedule. And I can’t help but feel it’s totally unfair to the girls. We did put Ana in soccer last year but she really wants to do gymnastics. I haven’t put her and Charlotte in anything because I’m afraid of what will happen when we have multiple activities going on during the weekend.
I understand this will eventually happen and I actually look forward to the day that all four potty-trained, non-teething, non-napping and slightly rational kids will be involved in a constant parade of weekend activities.
But right now, I don’t have four potty-trained, non-teething, non-napping and slightly rational kids.
What I have is an 18-month old banshee that is obsessed with me. She has her second set of molars coming in, has decided that screaming is the best form of communication and thinks hitting and pushing is super fun. She also dumps out the shoe box constantly, poops four times a day, unloads the dishwasher while I load it, and is now able to open doors, which is mostly scary when that involves the bathroom door.
I know. It’s absolutely horrible of me to not appreciate her every waking moment. She’s adorable. She is, she really is. But I’m tired. Tired of the screaming and the poop and the asking for food only to crumble it all over the carpet, which I have to then vacuum up. I’m tired of never being able to put stuff away because someone will find out how to get into that container/cabinet/drawer and sprinkle its contents all over the house.
Before you judge me, please remember that the girls are 16 and 22 months apart. It’s been several years of dealing with such irrational little creatures. I’m just tired and I struggle to enjoy Eliza sometimes. I do enjoy her. But sometimes, I don’t.
People often make jokes about how all three girls will be going through puberty at the same time and it will be completely awful. I just don’t see it. I already told Shane he has to buy us a convertible VW bug to go cruising in. That will snap them out of any hormonal depression. We’re going to have the best time and I feel so ready to move on to the next stage of parenthood. I can just see it now! We’ll be cruising in the bug with the top down, the wind blowing through our hair, on our way to REI to go running shoe shopping!
I think there’s a 100% chance of me thinking back on these days and missing how much they wanted my attention, how they couldn’t/wouldn’t do anything without my assistance, how I was the most awesome person they know. Even though they’ll need me in their teen years, they won’t be so quick to admit at.
I am tired. I am more anxious to move on than I probably should be. But that’s just how it is and no matter how much I beat myself up about it, I can’t easily change that. I’m just going to cuddle her as much as I can and take pictures to prove it happened 😉
So, maybe it’s not really Cub Scouts that’s bothering me. Maybe I just need a break from my perfect little angel. Thank goodness I’m off for a girl’s weekend with my mom on Friday (or Saturday if Shane comes home too late on Friday). We’ll chat, sew, knit, watch Downton Abbey, eat lamb and drink wine. It’ll be lovely.