Hunger pains and anxiety prodded me from my bed at 5:00 a.m. A cup ‘o joe and a buttered bagel silenced my snarling stomach. A game of Candy Crush calmed my nerves.
Sated and centered, I prepared for my busy day: nylons donned, hair curled, makeup applied. At 6:15 a.m., I began the first of many attempts to coax my kids from slumber to school. I seriously considered using a crow bar to pry them from their pillows. At 7:10 a.m., they were finally up and ready to go, so I slipped on my heels and out the door we went.
I dropped off my elder child at the high school first. “I love you,” I said. “I know” was the reply. “I love you,” I repeated, this time a little louder. “Got it,” my first-born responded, slightly exasperated. Ah, teenagers…Don’t you just LOVE their attitudes (said no parent ever)!
I then drove to the middle school. Before I had barely braked, my younger child bolted from the car with a “Love you! Have a good day!”…an obvious attempt at atonement for my elder child’s indifference.
Grinning at my second born’s antics, I put the car in drive and proceeded down the road to my 8:00 a.m. follow-up interview. It was for a communications position at an office less than a mile from my spouse’s place of business. How convenient is that?
For the first hour of the interview, I spoke with the CEO and the COO about what would I do in this situation or that. The next two and a half hours were spent in front of a computer. I wrote a press release on survey findings, designed a training brochure complete with full agenda, and recommended a communications plan for the public at-large after reviewing member newsletter articles.
When I left the interview, my brain was slightly squishy. The drive home was a blur. I do know that en route, I did make a pitstop at the grocery store to pick up a few staples. (Wasn’t I just here yesterday? Seriously, how much food can two kids consume?) Otherwise, it is a blank…
Arms laden with shopping bags, I arrived at my house at 12:15 p.m., kicked off my heels, stashed the groceries, grabbed some grub, and took a much-needed moment for myself.
Once I caught my breath, I emptied the dishwasher then filled it again. Next came a load of laundry…a never-ending task these days. Then, I started straightening up. Scattered like Easter eggs waiting for the hunt were shoes…scores of shoes…none of them mine. I rounded up the free-range footwear and put them all away. (I am sure that they will once again be released into the wild when the kids and spouse get home.)
At 2:15 p.m., I slipped my heels back on and trudged outside…this time to taxi my younger child and buddies from school to home. Standing outside the school, it felt as if I had wondered into a “Where’s Waldo?” world; identifying those three specific kiddos amongst the mass of manic middle schoolers meandering about was no mean feat, but I finally found them all! Into the car they clamored and down the road we went…children chattering like cheerful chickadees. When I arrived home, I spent the better part of an hour cajoling my younger child to complete that homework sooner rather than later. Please.
Since my spouse and my older child were at an away soccer game, my younger rugger and I were on our own for dinner. Guess I should add that to the to-do list… Sigh. Anyone up for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?
At 5:30 p.m., we plodded out the door again, this time on our way to Scouts. Armed with a good book and a mug of sweet tea, I parked my posterior on a nearby bench. After the official Scout meeting was concluded, the activity began: this week’s theme, bottle rockets. The sounds of soda bottles shooting skyward and screeching Scouts scurrying like squirrels fighting over the last nut filled the air. I guess reading is out…
At about 7:45 p.m., the last rocket was launched (Thank heavens!), and we headed home. My spouse and first-born were still not back, so my younger child parked in front of the television to decompress. I just sat comatose on the sofa.
By 9:00 p.m., the whole family was home safely. Then came my end-of-the-evening reminder: “Brush your teeth and go to bed.” Every night, I say the same thing… in English… out loud… without fail. I do not deviate from the script. And yet, my children act like they just don’t understand. So I say it again, “Brush your teeth and go to bed.” Nothing. Not even a blink. By the third time, I was practically bellowing, “Brush your teeth and go to bed!” “Geez, Mom, you don’t have to shout!” my progeny protested.
That’s it. Somebody hand me my pillow. I’m calling it a day.