When people ask me what I do, I prefer to say that I work at home with my kids. I’m not ashamed to be at home; in fact, I’m beyond lucky to be able to do so. The thing is, I try not to say that I’m a “stay-at-home-mom” because, I’m really rarely at home.
I’m up well before the kids, having tackled a multitude of tasks that keep this well-oiled household performing at peak condition. By the time the girls have gotten up, I’ve ticked off several things on my to-do list, given my day planner a thorough once over, mapped out the best routes from A to Z and points in between, and have packed at least two bags with snacks, changes of clothes, and assorted books and toys to keep everyone sane and entertained.
On any given day, we’ve got something to do, somewhere to be and usually someone to share that fun with us. Maybe it’s swimming lessons, maybe it’s the zoo, maybe it’s Paint Your Own Pottery *shudder* or some other arts & craps. I’ve got us so scheduled and committed to playdates that Morgan not only asks, “What are we doing today?”, but “Who’s going to be there?” Heaven forbid I tell her that it’s just going to be us three. I don’t think my ego can take the look of disappointment mixed with resignation on her face.
But now, Morgan added yet another question into the mix. Her new follow-up is, “And then what are we going to do?”
As if breakfast, dentist appointment, soccer camp, lunch with a friend, swimming lessons, a trip to Target, a trip to Trader Joe’s, a trip to the Dollar Tree, home, shower, hair do’s, playtime outside with the neighbors, playtime inside, a quick episode of Charlie and Lola, dinner, time with Daddy, and getting ready for bed isn’t enough.
I’m worn out just looking at that list.
There are times when I want to just turn around (because I’m inevitably driving down the road) and say, “Really? Aren’t you tired?” Sometimes, even when I know exactly what the next two or three activities are, I beg off and say, “Let’s just play it by ear.” If I provided her with an itemized, color coded, cross-reference comprehensive itinerary, I still think she’d be asking me what’s next on the agenda. Other times, I honestly don’t know what’s next. I know what I’d like to do (hello, nap like Rip Van Winkle), but it’s doubtful that what I’d like is going to win out. I’m working towards win-win situations. I’ll keep you posted on how that is working out.
The other day, the girls had summer camp in the morning, lunch with a friend, a long trip to Busch Gardens, then an extended playdate that lasted well into the evening. By the time we picked the girls up at 11pm, I figured they’d be down for the count. Both of them were still going full tilt, without having had the benefit of naps. Outside in their pajamas, they were ricocheting off of eachother and their best buddy as we wrangled their carseats into the car. No sooner was everyone buckled in and the key in the ignition, did Morgan ask, “Now what are we going to do?”
Hello! It’s 11 o’clock at night. I am so tired I could carry home groceries in the bags under my eyes. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going home to board the SleepyTime Express and I’m going to put pedal to the metal because that’s one train you little heffs need to be on.
I didn’t say that, not out loud anyway. I was too tired to deal with the Pavlovian-esque response that comes with mentioning the words sleep and/or bed (i.e. tears). I just said, “Let’s just play it by ear,” and drove off into the night.
