We are on DAY 7. I have nicknamed this summer as Mission Impossible. Each day is action-packed and involves intellect, heroics, and scheming villains. I must be strong. Don’t judge, but it helps me cope.
For the first few days, I stared at these creatures, they very ones I helped create, wondering how I will make it out alive. My survival instincts said to run….and don’t look back.
Due to bad knees and the fact that I suck at running, I decided it was best I stood my ground.
This was my new mantra:
Don’t make eye contact and stand very still…..maybe they will sniff around for a bit and then go off to chase the squirrels.
Ok, maybe that comparison is a bit harsh, but I sometimes feel like I am at odds with a rabid animal. Kids are smart. They scheme to get what they want. Their skillful maneuvers bring havoc and attempt to break you down. Their instincts are impeccable, especially when they have you backed into a corner.
I love these little minions that now occupy my every waking moment. I do. Really….. But I am also a person that loves her quiet, “ME” time. I believe this stems from being an only child. Back in the day, I could shut off my mind and write, read, or just be.
It’s all about survival
I have survived hourly attacks from these little humans….the very ones that inherited my husband’s smart a** personality and my incessant need to always be right. My Mom and God are laughing at this, I am sure.
Karma sure dealt us a great hand.
I curse her daily.
I am tired. Also a bit bitter. There are moments when I Google summer camps that last ALL summer, no matter the cost. A second mortgage would be an easy fix to the headaches and bickering.
But, I only Google….I never actually complete the registration. I’d miss them. Most of the time.
I chose this SAHM life. My husband and I made the decision while we were sober, coherent, and of sound mind. I just need to get over my own doubts and insecurities.
Sharing our Day
When my husband asks about our day, I am sometimes guilty of not sharing the good stuff. I feel remorseful that he cannot suffer enjoy what happens while he is at the office. In fairness to him, I wrote it down.
If I forget to tell you about our day, please know that it is not intentional. I just fear that speaking of these events may cause flashbacks. And since I know you hate when I cry, please accept this as a substitute to a verbal discussion.
*Disclaimer: For the most part, these are daily occurrences, but they are subject to change without warning.
1.) Answered repeated inquiries about our daily agenda.
2.) Ignored proclamations of boredom.
3.) Calmed cries of frustration when they realized we are not going to town (AKA – spend money). And you said saving money was my weakness. HA!
4.) Scrubbed mysterious stuff, which I swear were dried boogers (or cereal…or toothpaste, or gum, or something icky from outside that I don’t want to identify) from the stair railings.
5.) Questioned, silently of course, their intelligence when they cannot grasp the concept of why we placed towel holders in the bathrooms.
6.) Washed a load of towels, unable to distinguish which ones were still clean and which ones were not. (Refer to #5 above)
P.S If you can’t locate me….check the closet.
If not in closet, secure the perimeters and question the children. They may look innocent, but don’t believe a word they say.