Let the Crying Begin

Dear Blogary,

I hadn’t a clue there was a shoe in the air. Yet, it seems the proverbial shoe has dropped. Remember when I said no tears were shed? Not one? Well, I have an update to my post from earlier this week.

Blogary, seems one has to adjust to this new life of school. Seems one has to adjust to this new life of working for a paid gig, while also working as Mom. This is not really news to me, Blogary. Rather, I preferred to sing ‘la la la’ loudly in my head, while moving along with my day.

As a child, when I came home from school, I either sat and watched TV, played inside or went outside to play. Interacting with my Mom wasn’t an option. Well, I could ask her to play Little People with me, but her answer would always be ‘no’. Instead, my Mom spent her time sewing, reading a book or enjoying an afternoon cigarette with a freshly made cup of coffee. (Though she has long since quit smoking, I can still picture her sitting at the counter, enjoying her afternoon ‘smoke’.)

Understand, my Mom worked. She took care of kids inside our house. She had about three kids at a time from infancy through Pre-K. She only worked during the school year. When Summer came, she’d head off to Nova Scotia with me in tow. Woo hoo! Ah, the good ol’ days. I digress.

Blogary, I am a working Mom. You know this. And, you know that prior to Joe starting school, my days were ‘easy’. I dropped the boys off at Suzann’s house in the AM before work, and I picked the boys up in the PM after work. My schedule allowed me the freedom to tackle household chores, as well as meet the needs of my paid gig.

And now? Now, my ‘flexibility’ ends at 1:30 when I am at my boss’ house and 2pm when I am home. Am I moaning and groaning needlessly? Yes, I suppose I am. Though I suspect there are others like me. Still, I’m not sure how my Mom managed to get things done, once the kids were home from school. Perhaps it just takes time. After all, my Mom had 6 kids – who knew how crazy she was with the first two.

After school child care is not an option for us, Blogary. I do not even want to think about Fall break in September. What is Fall break, you ask? It is a week where the kids are home from school. Hmmm . . . my child is home, while I am suppose to be working. Ack. Another need for adjustments. Fall camp is an option, though that takes money. Commence singing ‘La la la’ in head…

Blogary, due to the proverbial shoe dropping last night, we had cereal for supper. I wanted to run to the store and find some Ben & Jerry’s to console my wigged-out self, but refrained (successfully). And the tears shed? Yeah, those were mine, as the reality of adding another ball to my juggling act hit me. Many tears shed. Tons.


Reality meeting Reality

First, I finished month-end billing. This matters to you, I know. And, because I have finished month end billing, I feel a weight has been lifted. Woo hoo! Just in time for the weekend. Second, I found the source of my fear and anxiety.

The Log Lodge Bunch and Grandpa Bob

See the picture? This is the Log Lodge Bunch in the Spring of 2007. See the cute kid in front with a green shirt and wearing glasses? Yeah, that kid. That’s my oldest son, Joe. Joe starts kindergarten in August this year. See the the dark haired girl holding a baby? Yeah, that baby is my kid, too. That’s Charlie, who is turning 4 in June. The only kids in the picture that are still part of the Log Lodge crew are Joe and Charlie. The others have moved on to ‘big kid’ school.

I can handle my boys getting older. Truly. I do not have a sense of fear or anxiety with the thought and realization that they are getting older. However, see the lady in the picture? That’s our daycare provider, Suzann. The thought that my boys are getting to the age where they will leave Suzann’s place is making me crazy with fear and anxiety. (I’ll write about Suzann soon. She is an incredible person.)

I have my feet on the ground. Yes, though my head can be found in the clouds frequently throughout the day, I believe I have a pretty good grip of reality. [Oh, keep quiet Peanut Gallery. Thanks.] And, I have been well aware of the fact that my boys will one day go to school. I guess what I failed to grasp was how our life would change drastically once they started school and are dictated by the school calendar.

This morning, the boys and I sat on the couch sipping our soy milk and coffee, while watching Curious George. (Straight black coffee for me, and straight soy milk for the boys.) When he is not working at home, Rob leaves for the office before the kids and I get out of bed. Charlie and I didn’t stumble out of our rooms until 7AM. Joe joined us on the couch around 7:15. And, we sat. We chatted about George and the man in the yellow hat, and we discussed the different ways a person can get dressed. For instance, Charlie likes to get fully undressed and sit a minute before moving forward with dressing. Once ready to get dressed, Charlie likes to put on his socks first, followed by underwear, pants and shirt. While Joe prefers taking one item of clothing off at a time, replacing it with a clean item. For example, he takes his shirt off, and he puts on a clean shirt, etc. We cover some serious issues in the morning.

I enjoy the fact that our weekday mornings move in a slow and casual pace, because where we have to go in the morning does not come with a time constraint. Yes, the boys were going to Suzann’s house; and yes, I needed to go to my boss’ house; but, there was no bell that was going to ring, indicating we were late. Sometimes we have to step up the slow pace due to appointments, but generally speaking – our weekday mornings are similar to weekend mornings: slow, comfortable and casual.

All of this is going to change come August 2010. Joe will have to get up earlier, eat breakfast and head to school before the bell rings. Charlie and I will no longer get to sit with Joe, casually enjoying the morning. We will no longer get to play impromptu games of Hi-Ho Cherry-O or Chutes and Ladders. (OK, so I won’t miss those impromptu games.) We will no longer be able to stumble out of bed at 7AM or 7:15AM. And, in another year, Charlie will be waking up earlier, eating breakfast and making sure he gets to school before the bell rings.

I am going to miss my quiet and casual time with the boys. And, because I work, I will miss the freedom and flexibility with my work hours. I’ve yet to sit and talk about it with my boss, but my availability with regards to work is going to be compromised. Like many working Moms before me, I will now have the responsibility of picking Joe up from school in the middle of my workday. And, come school holiday time, I will have to juggle having Joe home while meeting my paid-gig responsibilities. The short holidays won’t pose a huge problem, but I’m not sure how the whole “Summer break” is going to pan out for us.

Again, I know I am not the first Mom to come to this stage of reality, and I won’t be the last Mom that faces this stage of reality. I also know this is not a huge deal in the scheme of things. Yet, I am a little bummed and overcome with a bit of fear and anxiety for the pending reality. I quite enjoy my current reality, especially the indigo skies and sunflower lined roads. Oh wait. Sorry. I confused my reality with fantasy, or is it I confused my fantasy with reality? Anyway, as I was saying, I love the slow pace of mornings in my house. And, I am sad this reality is coming to an end. However, until my current reality meets my new reality, I will definitely milk the remaining 4 months I have left to sit and enjoy the casual morning time with the boys. [Oh, and I’ll enjoy the cups of coffee, too. Love me some fresh brewed coffee in the morning!]


I am trimming my hair again today. The fact that I am once again trimming my hair is not an indication of happy and relaxing times. And, the trimming is becoming increasingly more noticeable. I’m feeling anxious. I’m missing my routine life, even the part where I complain about my regular routine. Since returning from my awesome weekend away with Rob, my routine has been out of whack. Such is the price of vacation, I suppose.

Prepping for Easter celebrations, birthday parties, being sick, PMS, catering to sick kids and being a single parent while Rob is out of town are just a few of the interruptions of my routine. I’m also dealing with the typical large work load that occurs at the end/start of every month. In my head, I picture myself huddled in a ball and rocking back and forth. The worst part? I’m so out of whack I have no desire to eat junk food. What?! The food addict doesn’t want to eat junk? Dang. This is serious. [Though I have lost five pounds in the past couple of weeks.]

Next week doesn’t look much like a routine week, either. Rob will be out of pocket for three nights, traveling and going to meetings. I am hoping for some serious alone time this weekend. I’d love to have time to catch up on household chores and sit in silence when done with the chores, perhaps reading a book or two. The one glitch  may be my mother-in-law’s birthday. I was thinking of baking another pound cake for the birthday gal, in hopes it would excuse me from going to my in-laws’ house to celebrate her birthday. Though it may not help me win points with the mother-in-law, I think my father-in-law would be pleased. He enjoyed many slices of the pound cake I made for Easter.

Today, I have managed to do a whole bunch of absolutely nothing. Well, I did some laundry, changed around my blog appearance, wandered around the house in a daze, got the mail and let the dogs in and out – and in and out – and in and out. But, other than that, I’ve done nothing. You see, I should be working. I should be completing tasks for my paid job. I really do have invoices to create and prep for my boss on Monday. But, I am freaking. I am anxious. Can’t put my finger on why I am freaking and anxious. I am just freaking and anxious. Perhaps extreme amounts of pollen have gotten into my brain and is causing delirium. Perhaps I’ve blown my nose too hard and too often these past 5 days. Hmm, as I twirl my hair with my finger, I’m noticing another uneven spot. I better go get the scissors.