I love my kids. I really do. They are great. They are smart, funny, loyal, athletic, and overall amazing human beings. However there are times when I’m ready for that next stage in my life. I am ready to begin to live and focus on myself again.
I reread that last sentence and I realize how selfish I sound. Part of me truly doesn’t care. I want to start being selfish, for a change. I want to begin thinking about my dreams, while still meeting the needs and aspirations of my children.
My husband Brian and I spend hours upon endless hours driving to and from practices, games, dances, etc… I am a chauffeur that pretends to be a part-time mom.
I cheer during the wins and I cheer when we are getting our butts kicked. There are also times I pretend to cheer during soccer, which is an excruciating chore for me.
The words “Mom, can you take me to…” are forever coming out of one of my kid’s mouths.
I am their cook, laundry person, chauffeur, money source, and biggest fan. (They do have jobs and make their own money, but still).
I will be out in public, getting ready to do something for one of the boys or Khloe, and someone will always say, “You’re going to miss this.”
I want to say, “Really? Are you sure?” I don’t think they know what they are talking about. Have they forgotten the daily, constant needs that kids have?
The Time…
Between Brian and myself, we are constantly doing something for the kids. Time is just a fleeting memory of a luxury that occasionally happened during the summer months. (We still had football, basketball, and Driver’s Training to deal with).
The weekdays are full, and sometimes the weekends are even more jam-packed with activities. Weekends bring football games for Khloe’s team, haircuts, shopping, and anything else we can try to fit in.
Time is definitely a luxury for us.
The Food…
We buy groceries all of the time. They consume the stuff as if they have been on a deserted island for a month and were just given access to food.
Now, before I go any further, I do have to say that we eat out a lot depending on the sports season that we are in. I try to be a good mom, an A+ mom that has a healthy crock-pot meal waiting at home for when kids get home from practice at 8:00, but I just don’t get there all of the time. I try to throw spaghetti together late at night, or maybe a meal of chicken nuggets and mac & cheese, but sometimes dinner consists of a couple of pizzas and some breadsticks.
Even when it seems they are full and all good, an hour goes by and they are hungry again. We go to bed and the kitchen is clean, dishes are put away. We get up in the morning and someone had some pizza rolls and left the empty bag out, another child may have heated up a leftover hamburger from the previous night. It doesn’t seem to stop.
Another thing, the food we buy for them is not necessarily the kind of food Brian and I enjoy. When we do get something, such as my treasured bag of shelled pistachios, you have to hide it so that the little barbaric humans won’t find it. When they were little, and I was eating something like a candy bar, one of them would ask, “Mom, what’s that?” Without skipping a beat, I would always answer, “broccoli.” They would then leave me alone. It doesn’t work anymore.
Someday, at some point, Brian and I will be able to shop for groceries that we like again. We won’t have to stash emergency rations of chocolate in the gun safe. (We absolutely have candy hidden in the gun safe – don’t judge.)
The Mess…
I’m a very analytical type of person. I like things in a certain spot and the floor at least semi-clean. The kids’ rooms I’m not too overly concerned about as long as we don’t need Hazmat suits to enter.
The rest of the house, however, should be kept tidy and free of ‘Kid Clutter’ as much as possible. I hate picking up: socks, cups, gum wrappers, water bottles, plates, headphones, someone’s chewed up pencil, Diet Coke cans, etc…
It’s actually more that I hate to tell them to pick it up. They should know better, right?
Please don’t get the wrong opinion. I am not their maid and they can pick up their own stuff. It’s just that I truly, emphatically, without question, hate all of the items that the naughty little monsters tend to leave out.
It is this that drives me to go and attempt to hide out in my Writing Cabin.
It would be so refreshingly wonderful to leave a room in the house, and then return to that same room with items exactly where they should be. Is that too much to ask?
You may be thinking that would be boring. Probably thinking that I would miss the ‘lived in’ feel of the home if the kids were gone and the socks were actually in the sock drawer.
Nope. I don’t think so.
The Stress…
I am a worrier. I was born a worrier. In grade school, the thought of even getting into trouble would have flattened me emotionally.
I wanted to do everything I was supposed to do, and then some. I worried about grades, even though I was an A student. My siblings’ well-being worried me, grades worried me, even the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) commercials worried me. I wanted to try and fix everything.
As a mom, the worry is ten-fold. My three little angels cause me stress at every turn.
When they were younger, I thought someone was going to kidnap them when we were out in town. I stressed about one of the cute little things falling down the stairs and breaking their neck. What if they didn’t do well in school, or they didn’t have any friends? It’s an endless list, but you get the idea.
Now that they are older, the boys are driving and dating. I mean, that just says it all right there. Pretty soon, it will be Khloe dating. It makes me want to throw up just thinking about it.
I know you are thinking that the worries will not go away once they are out of the house. There will be new worries to take place of the old ones. Will they be successful and independent? (I stress the independent part). Will they find love, be financially stable, etc…?
I have to think that the stress that comes with older children will be a gentler kind of stress. I’m hoping. If you are one of the 5 people that read this blog, please don’t tell me otherwise. Let me hold on to the fantasy.
I need therapy. I know.
I Really Do Love Them
Brian and I went through the IVF process to have the twins. I understand how it feels to want kids so badly that it is all you can think about.
All three of my children are absolute miracles to me. My family is the core to everything that is near and dear to my heart. I love them with every ounce in my body, however….
I’m looking forward to the day when my little ‘miracles’ leave the nest and thrive on their own.
Will I ‘miss this?’ Maybe some of it, but make no mistake, I will not shed any tears due to a lack of socks and dishes to pick up. I will try to control my sadness when I have free nights to go on dates with my husband without a child texting, ‘bring home food.’
Goals for Today:
- Organize My Medicine Cabinet – Boring, but Needs to be Done
- Begin a New Book – The Body in the Back Garden by Mark Waddell
- Give Each of My Kids a Big Hug Before Bedtime