...prison break

I love my children dearly. I love that I get to watch them grow into such different amazing people.I'm lucky because they are great kids. I don't begrudge my obligation to be their parent. To be a guiding influence in life, to have short nights, early mornings and loud rowdy days. That being said, it has been three weeks since I have been out of my house WITHOUT them. Tonight, as most anyone I know already knows since I have mentioned it ad nauseam, I'm getting out of the house!

I've already mentioned to my little rays of sunshine that while I love them, when the babysitter steps one foot into the house tonight, I will be stepping one foot out. I try to reassure them it isn't that don't want to be here with them. It's that I have to actually leave them every once and a while for me to appreciate them more. Not sure what I'm going to do (well, I totally do but that's for me to know), but some time away is, at this point in my brain, "critical-need" status.

That's the thing about my life...I miss spontaneity. I never appreciated it when I had it. I never actually took advantage of it ever before. I miss someone saying, "Get dressed, we're going out..." or even, "...no, you head out to the store alone, I've got this...". That's where my 'control-freak' button kicks in. It's cleverly hidden behind my left ear. Not because I enjoy having it, it's necessary for survival. For me to do anything alone, I have to not only plan ahead, make phone calls, try not to sound too needy, and line up everything else in this house so that I can leave seamlessly...and...I hate that. I hate asking for help (I know, this is constantly said, but really I need to wear a sign).  I hate that I can't just slip out and have some alone time. I hate that by the time I actually get out of the house, my brain has already checked out DAYS before. I hate that I might be giving my kids the subliminal message that at times I can't handle...life.

In a perfect world, I'd be independently wealthy. Care.com would actually find someone to help me babysit my kids one day a week. In a perfect world, I wouldn't feel like someone needing a PRISON BREAK...In a perfect world I could handle all of this, well, better. I feel pretty empowered by what I have mastered so far in this new life of ours. I have figured out how to get stuff done, not like I would have done them before, but oh well. My house is 'clean', my kids are fed, the laundry is still getting done. I keep thinking that with more time under my belt, I'll figure out the "getting out of the house" business...you know, before I'm mentally squealing the tires out of my driveway in my minivan screaming FREEDOM!!!

...Sundays and a DAY GLO bra...

...I know someday...Someday, I will enjoy a leisurely Sunday...I haven't really seen one in 9 years. There are those foreign moments...those times when I catch myself, sitting doing nothing on a Sunday, only to have to get up and get someone a Kleenex and then do more laundry.

Going to church is like an Olympic event. I feel as though if I make it through the whole thing, and we are all still alive, with a furrowed but moistened brow from fighting a FREAKISHLY strong two year old for an hour...I await the interview from the commentator at the door....

 "So, Kate...How do you think you did? There was a time during the Lord's Prayer when it looked like it was all going to fall apart..."

                "...Well Frank... I'm not going to lie...I ran out of animal crackers at a crucial point of play and to say it was touch and go...well, I'm just glad I finished....See you next week..." -end scene.

 

Today...it was no exception. I love the town we live in, it has all the best a small town has to offer. The only thing I miss is being a little anonymous. You're late to church, you miss church, your kids like to pick out a wedgie at church...it's all being seen. If you go to mass at another church, you better tell one woman there, as she will remind you every time she sees you that you were clearly missing...up note that I have to remind myself, at least someone even cares.

 

Today, I felt like I had all my ducks in a row. Snacks, drinks, Kleenex, toys, pacifiers, I had it...except the church envelope. For some reason, when my kids get into church, it's as if they forget HOW to take off their coats. They just sit down and look at me...with my duffel bag of tricks and a howler monkey two year old on my hip, I shoot them a look of, okay, what do you think you do next? Everyone adapted, an early request for a snack denied and quickly discussed that underwear were not a topic for church conversation. Interestingly enough, I no more say that, than I'm taking off my coat, and my sweater and shirt get statically STUCK. As I'm taking off my coat, half of my clothes come off of one arm, and boom all of the right side of church gets to see my DAY GLOW bra...classy...may have to start sitting in the back of church.

 

But, the strangest thing happened today...I was given my leisure. I wrestled the howler monkey into submission and before I knew it...for the first time...he fell asleep, snoring and clutching a plastic dinosaur. I actually heard what was being said and actively participated. It was appreciated, thank you so much who ever had a hand in it. Afterward, this kind gentleman who sits behind us put his arm around me and told my how well behaved my kids were. I thanked him, shot him a wink, and assured him that I hadn't drugged any of them...today.

 

 





 

...where June Cleaver meets Mommy Dearest..

Snow. Snow. Fevers. Tantrums. Cleaning. Popcorn. Movies. Snow...honestly, I'm not like the rest. I don't mind the snow days we have been having. I'm lazy I suppose. I'm grateful not have to leave my house. It's a verified reason to wear your P.J.s all day long, sport some rockin' bed head, and basically be slovenly...at least for a little while.

So, with snow days and sick kids a bound a very rare occurrence happened the other day...I took a nap. Doesn't sound earth shattering but that's how rare it is here. While asleep, I had this very real dream, where I was speaking to someone I know on social media, but have never actually met. She asked me a question that so fired me up! It's a harmless question really, but at times when asked, it does feel as if it's loaded. I was sitting across from this girl and she asked me, "So, what do you do?".

Now, in the moment, I became slightly dictator-like in answering the question. I will preface this by saying, I believe I was born into the wrong era. One lone light shone on me, and the questioner far back on the other side of the room. I felt as though I was answering this question how I've wanted to answer it the millions of other times I've been asked, but chickened out. I was answering it with not myself only in mind, but for the millions of other women who also have to answer this question. Not sure why it enrages me, perhaps the frequent response to my answer is what triggers it...usually some indication that I don't have a 'real job'....that's where June Cleaver meets Mommy Dearest...

I answered the question in such a way that doesn't elude to the fact that I'm so well to do that I can stay home with/for my kids. I answered it in a way that right now, I make wise choices, follow a budget, go without luxuries, and still get to be home with my kids. I answered it in a way that didn't portray me as a mother when I started my time nine years ago. Rather a mother for  2+4+8+9 years...because in reality that's how you should add up the accomplishments of a mother...and you've lived to tell the tale. I answered the question, making sure to include that if I did work outside the home, I'd be handing a paycheck over to someone else. That someone else was also rewarded by seeing all the milestones that I missed out on for a job that wasn't as important to me...at least as important as the job I'm doing now. I am proud to know mothers that work outside the home. I marvel at their dedication to something they love to do as well as being a mother...I just haven't found it yet. I know this bubble I live in will very soon become more expensive to live comfortably in...

So, I answered the question, of this woman whom I've never met face to face. Again, not really understanding this dream, where it came from or how it came to be...other than maybe being reminded to keep answering in the way that I did, as long as I can...My answer was very simply and to the point,  "...oh, I'm a stay at home Mom..." and then I woke up.

...listlessness and indifference...

Not sure who to point the finger at...Mother Nature? The Ground Hog? Well, at least those two I know which finger I'd be pointing. This one isn't for the faint of heart. It seems the irony that I am usually able to point at and make fun of has sort of taken a back seat to life lately. Not sure if it's the winter blahs or the winter of my discontent or just life catching up with me.

I talk about my house a lot. We have a love affair he(?) and I do. The vastness, the beauty, the uncommon features, they are not lost on me. I still wander around it, in the quiet early morning hours and look from corner to corner knowing how blessed I am to be living here. I sip my coffee and whisper gently to him to try not to fall apart all at once, my heart couldn't take it...as I know forever to mean something different now. I know it's ridiculous to believe I should be here at all, let alone forever, and I try to take a minute each day to be in love and terrified of this house all at the same time...it's a labor of love.

Being a parent isn't all there is to me, but it's my 18+ hour a day job and at times I feel like I'm not easily tapped out. Even recently when I was out of daily environment,  I'm still cleaning up tables, picking up coats, tiding things...and I thought to myself, "What the hell are you doing? Stop!..." but I couldn't. I needed to be doing something. A kin to holding a 'blankie',  it stunted the opportunity I could have had to sit, laugh, and enjoy the company around me.  Maybe that's my tell? Maybe I'm to the point where keeping busy is easier than having to engage? Sometimes the lack of irony life holds does not escape me. While the scenario may be unfortunate, there is no reversal of experiences...and it appears my view from this picture window has changed...time to rearrange the furniture.

I never just hid. In all these months since our life has changed, I've never just hid. I've been blessed with family and friends and those who love me wanting to ease my burden no, my day to day. Taking the kids while I run errands, having them spend extended time with them, even coming to my house and telling me to leave for the night. All things I am beyond grateful for, especially when they take into the equation that I am horrible at asking for help. I wish I would have taken those same people up on the option to hide earlier. I feel now, that I'm not sure I could actually do it (yes, my name is Kate, and I'm a control freak), and I'm not sure what good it would do...I would only end up feeling guilty for not having been productive, and dread going home because while I love every molecule of my children, sometimes reality isn't as much fun.

It seems that I'm in a big time-warped-rut of listlessness and indifference. So, while Mother Nature told her dirty secrets to the Ground Hog, and evidently the Farmer's Almanac, as it has predicted every flake of icy snow we have been given...I will listen to the principle of the school tell me in his prerecorded message that yes, indeed school will be canceled tomorrow. Six more weeks until Spring...and praying my mood will be improved before then...