There are few things on this earth that bother me to such a degree that it makes it impossible for me to sleep, work, or eat well. I can roll with the punches, even if I don’t want to. I can settle for a change in plans, even though it’s not something I enjoy. But the end of year mayhem? I have still not wrapped my head around it and it shows.
If you see me now any given morning dropping off my kids to school, I will be the parent who looks like she just rolled out of bed. Why? Because I did. And then I made the one millionth sandwich for school times three, tried to dig deep into my pantry for some nut-free snacks, chop up some leftover fruit that wasn’t immediately eaten the moment I brought it home from the grocery store, slathered the boys with sunscreen then washed my hands a billion times so it doesn’t leave a creamy white zinc residue on my front door, car door, clothes, and basically everything I touch.
Coffee you ask? It’s ready. It’s sitting on my coffee maker, looking at me.
Laughing at me.
I will get to that coffee once the kids have been brought to school, and then I will zap that coffee to make it somewhat tolerable to drink, as I dream of a perfect latte in a warm cup with a chocolatine on the side.
Tell me if you can relate. Tell me I’m not alone!
Since a couple of weeks ago when teachers stopped given homework all together, my boys have been little grenades, ready to explode the moment they get back home.
They come home and all sense of responsibility, manners and respect have not come with them.
Now don’t get me wrong, my boys are good. They are fantastic, actually. So this change in personality has got me losing my mind.
In their defense, it’s not entirely their fault. We have summer weather (finally!) and days left of school. So they come home ready to jump in the pool, but I hound them about putting away their stuff. They want to relax and have fun, but I’m reminding them to do more reading….it’s a bit of a bipolar situation happening.
And there are the little slips are coming in left right and center for book fairs, and donations, and final presentations, and field trips and special snack days…it’s enough to make my head spin.
This morning I woke up to this:
Son: “Mom, we need ice cream today.”
Son: “Mom! We need ice cream. Now.”
Me: “You’re having ice cream for breakfast at school?”
Son: “No! But we (and this is when the words he’s saying sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher and I stare at my laughing coffee). So we need to bring it in now.”
Me: “Well, we don’t have ice cream so I’ll go get some and then bring it in for you.”
And then I gave him a hug. A gentle hug. Mainly for him, but also for me. The hug signified SO much.
We can do this.
We can get through.
We love each other and ice cream won’t break us.
Me: “Since you were just a toddler…you worry. I’ll take care of it. I love you.”
And then he let out a sigh of relief and said “OK”.
I, on the other hand was cursing BIG LOUD WORDS in my head about having to get ready, go to the store, then go to the school, and then go and do stuff I have to get done.
Ah, #mamalife. It’s quite a challenge!
To all the new mamas on this site, and to the lovely new mama at school that I just met who moved here a few weeks ago, I hate to burst your bubble. The reality is THIS is me.
I would love to tell you I will come back on the first day of school next year, recovered, refreshed and pumped with energy to tackle a new session.
But I don’t like making promises I can’t keep.
So here’s to us getting through these last days before school’s out!
Here’s to mustering something up for our husbands for Father’s Day in the heat of the chaos!
Here’s to attempting to feed, wash and get our kids to bed at a reasonable time a little longer!
And here’s to avoiding a late slip for the next full week of school!
Good luck, mamas!
If you’re anything like me, you’re going to need it.
And maybe a few prayers.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to get ice cream.