Detachment from reality, party of 5?...your table is now ready...

I watched as a little boy was walked from preschool to daycare...my heart ached and my eyes welled with tears...was I ready for this? Was I ready to let go? Was I ready to contemplate Atti taking that same walk? I'm programmed differently. My self-worth is not a job outside...my self-worth is indoors, in a laundry room or answering questions from a seated position on the toilet...while I was only going in for an interview, was I ready for what might come of it?

 Let me first just say, I am lucky. Since my first child was born Jason and I always agreed that someone should stay home with our kids. Was it always easy? No. Did it mean we went without some things? Yes. Was it at times maddening? Yes. But, it was something we always said was important to us. After Jason passed away, none of that changed. It's been difficult to budget things, but really nothing has changed, and for me, it was one less thing to worry about. It was one less thing in our lives full of immediate change that didn't really have to. It was possibly delaying the inevitable, but it was what I knew. I am grateful to get to stay at home with my kids. I get to do things with them any time of the day, and while at times it is exhausting I am so blessed to be able to do so. It is where I find my pride, solace, it is my business card...my kids.

 Cut to me, going in for my first job interview in 14 years...I'm older, yielding an antique skill set, and completely out of my wheel house knowing how to sell myself. While it is a job that would be exciting and fulfilling, basically a job I have been secretly wanting for years...my self-worth has never come from a paycheck or a title.  I felt like I was impersonating myself at times. I felt so conflicted that I prayed it didn't show on my face. On one hand I know that I will have to be joining the work force outside of my pretty brick house. But it's a slightly terrifying notion to think of all that will be changing when and if that does happen. As I left the morning of interviews I wondered, would I be able to pull any of this off? "Detachment from reality, party of 5?" your table is now ready...

My mind raced to the countless hours in the past as a stay at home mom that I half longed for adult interaction. It was quickly thwarted by the notion of Atti spending his out of school hours with someone else. Was it guilt or OCD that had me teetering? In the hours before the interview I felt like I was going to puke...nerves, fear, and anxiety set in. In messaging my best friend April I found the phrase that would push me through the rest of the morning, I literally chanted it in my head. It was simply this, "...I know this is scary, but you have made it through far worse..." She was completely correct. If this was meant to be it will be. If it isn't, I'm still going to never get to pee alone.

 I was asked during the interview about my worst trait. While I mentally cataloged the multitude that I have, my mind briefly brushed over the notion of change. And I realized in that moment, the horizon has changed. The view from my window while still the same, everyone is now tall enough to see out of it. I cannot confine or hide behind being just a stay at home mom any longer. I'm not betting on getting the job I interviewed for, I did make sure to thank my interviewers for the opportunity to be interviewed. While I might not be in the workforce saddle yet...it might be time to saddle up to some change...

...know how to aim...

...there's nothing quite like watching what you had for dinner come out of one of your children five hours later...really makes you rethink your nutritional goals. This week I was reminded, as sometimes you need to be, of what it must have been like to live during THE PLAGUE...Okay, not the plague, more like the Asian Flu of 1958. At any rate, sometimes you have to be looking/listening/sensing intently on your children, possibly trying to utilize your cat-like-reflexes with a puke bucket, to really notice things about them. Sure any other time, during normal daily life, you look at them, you see them...but laying with them, watching and listening to them breathe, you notice a lot more. Sadly our episode of malaria lasted longer than I wanted, but about the time where I was mentally/physically sick of seeing chunky bodily fluids...it ended.

Now it should be said, I am fortunate. I have kids that know how to aim and get them selves where they needed to be to get sick. Every time I heard the toilet flush, I said a little thank-you-prayer that they were to THIS point in their lives. Not old enough to shave but old enough to take care of business and know the drill of being sick. It is the other two I have, for some reason would like to reenact a scene from the "Exorcist" every time they throw up. A simple head in the bucket is just too much, not understanding why once covered in ick, I need to shower them off. Lastly, why candy should ever be consumed less than 24 hours after losing their lunch. Thankfully, our next outbreak of cholera, we'll be more practiced for this.

It was midway through the typhus outbreak that I took my yearly notice...these kids are growing...to fast. Oscar is as tall as I am, and the rest are quickly catching up as well...there goes my street cred. And as always, I noticed it with Atticus. As I lay there in his bed, praying not to get puked on again, hoping he can get some rest, I see him in his night light lit room. Speaking to him gently, telling him to just try to rest and that I would stay for a bit. Listening to him softly drift off, and noticing his profile I realize he looks/sounds the same as he did almost 4 years ago when he was a baby. I laid there thinking to myself what every wiser, more mature veteran mother has told me, "...enjoy this time..." Usually, I think, um why the hell would I want to? But in that moment, in that barely lit room, I laid there and looked at this kid. I wondered, what the heck? What is this kid going to be like? What is this kid going to be into? Who is this kid going to act like (the million dollar question)? And will this kid ever know how much he is loved?

That's the thing about Atticus...I'm technically the parent, but he has three others as well, one mother and two father hens. They comment when he's done something well, they let him know when he's not acting appropriately. They usually use him as their flying monkey when I'm out of  the room because he's the lightest. It was only tonight however, they and I didn't know how to react when he said at a commercial on TV "...well, that's bull shit..." Stunned silence. I wasn't pleased to have heard what he said, but I, much like the kids, found it so very odd to hear it coming from his mouth. We all sort of looked at each other like, okay he didn't say that. Ten seconds later he said, "...I said that was bull shit..." OKAY, heard that one! As I was trying to tell him that those were not words he should be using, the other three hens were chiming right it, giving him whats for...I was baffled and trying not to laugh actually.

This week has been long. This week has been tiring. This week has been a phenomenal advertisement for laundry detergent. At times this week could have gotten me early acceptance into the Betty Ford Clinic, but at least the worst is behind us. While at times this week my parenting skills have been questioned/debated/despised by my offspring, tonight I appreciated our tag-team-hen-parenting-approach. It's not ideal. At times by me it's not always preferred. But, it's got us where we are four years later, and he's still alive to tell the tale! So here's to the next round of yellow fever fate decides to throw at us...while it might possibly take us out...by then we'll all know how to aim!