Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Before you know it, there you are.
After seemingly endless and activity-packed summer days,
you find yourself alone.
In solitude, alone. 
The kids have been in school almost three weeks now 
and I still haven't quite adjusted.
I woke up a few days ago,
on an oddly warm and humid Minnesota morning,
Charlie's little nose pressed to mine.
One eye fluttered heavily awake.
"Buddy.  I hear you.  Good morning."
As he ran out of the room, 
having already met his quota for irritating mommy for the day,
(at 6:30am,)
he ran from the room, little butt cheeks in Star Wars undies
following behind.
I laid there.  Annoyed, but a smile on my face.
Thinking it was still summer.  My body NOR my brain had made the shift yet.
"Wait."  I thought, as I heard the slamming of dresser drawers, siblings already well in to their rivalry.
"What day is it?  It's the weekend, right?  It's still summer, isn't it?"
It literally took five minutes for me to figure out what day it was, what month.  I slept that hard and was awoken that abruptly by my 4-year-old alarm,
that I panicked and thought something was wrong with me.
How could I not remember?  How does someone young and healthy wake up and not know what day it is, or the time of year?
I could've sworn it was August.  And Saturday.
But it was Tuesday.  And September.
And the kids had been in school a week already.
And I was so sad.
I love summer.  Yes, it's jam-packed with activity.
It's lively and noisy and stinky and long.
But wonderful and truly the most challenging and for me, the most memorable months of parenting.
I rolled out of bed with a grunt and the heaviness of realizing you're somewhere you don't really want to be.
And their were wet uniforms still sitting in the washer.
And lunches to be packed.
And homework to finish.  
And breakfast to make.
And all needing to be done quickly so we could get out the door at a reasonable time.
As I pulled sweatpants on and slapped a baseball cap on my wretched mop, I reminisced. 
Summer was amazing.
And we soaked up the last days.
County fairs and pool days.
Gum chewing and ice cream eating. 
Loosing teeth,
{so many teeth lost this summer, that Grace doesn't even want the money anymore.  She left this for the Toothfairy.}
and Subway sandwiches on open park benches.
Impromptu "drive in" movie nights in the back yard with friends.

And lots of just plain, bein' cool.
Just as quickly as it ends, all the skinned knees, tanned legs and sun-lightened hair,
the school year begins again.
Backpacks and new sneaks,
Hurried mornings and tired evenings.
Back to routine and structure, schedules and chores. . .
Each new Fall day,
working patiently to undo our lackadaisical summer ways.
Relearning to make our beds, 
shut our drawers.
Finish schoolwork and fill out forms.
And yet I'm still not quite sure what to do with myself.
I mean, I've got lots to do.
A lot of time to think, as I fold laundry in peace. 
Wash dishes in peace.
Organize closets in peace.
Eat in peace.
It's. . .peaceful.
And so interesting how annoying they are when they're around.
How helpless and lonely I am when they're gone.
It's weird.
But again, I have plenty of time to ponder life's great questions now.
Like what in the hell is up with Miley?
I'm thankful my children will have a more solid foundation than Miley Cyrus (hopefully.)
And. . .
I find it quite entertaining the days I scold my children for the things they learn from me.
My 9-year-old who is a slob and eats like a pig, food on his face and an inability to chew with his mouth closed, hears,
"Buddy!  Take pride in your appearance!"  I yell as he pushes away from the table with ketchup on his upper lip and cheeks and. . . forehead?  Really?
His relentless allergies being swiped away with a forearm.
"Geez buddy!  Clean yourself up!  Come on!"
This coming from the woman that looks like Amanda Bynes most hours of the day.
{I love that every mom blogger is referencing poor Amanda when trying to portray JUST how much of train wreck they are.  Because, well, she is.  And so am I.}
And. . .
I love Facebook.  I really do.
I try to keep a balance from how many hours in a day I spend gawking at the latest rants and HIGHLY opinionated raves and actually doing something PRODUCTIVE.
But it's hard to ignore the obtuse and ambiguous posts that are UNBELIEVABLY annoying.
Yet you know exactly why the person is doing it.
For comments and attention and 'likes.'  It's maddening and yet I get it.
FB post-er.  
"I just wish this day would end."
FB "friends:"  "Oh hun!  What's wrong?  Hope you're okay?!  Call me!  Hugs!"
"Not sure what horrific tragedy has befallen you, but I'm praying for you!!!"
In these quiet hours of child-less freedom,
I come to question why we have any of it. 
And why I react the way I do, rolling my eyes and talking to myself and my computer, despising and mocking these people and the RIDICULOUS things they say,
yet don't have the courage to "de-friend" them.
And I wonder, why once you have children,
you can't imagine life any other way.
Oh, you DREAM of peace, quiet, a full nights' sleep and a clean home.
But once you have it, it's so. . .empty.
I've learned I'll take the loud, messy, chaos, energy any day over, any other life.
Nice if you can have a little of both.
And I wonder, 
why I continue to sabotage my dream of having a svelt 30-something body.
{Okay, I'd settle for "moderately decent" with a flat stomach.}
Despite my daily Yoga practice, 
my never ending quest for strength and balance,
I can't seem to step away from the Guac and chips.
The chocolate.
The cheesburgers.
Why I find myself 3 spoonfuls in to a jar of Nutella at 1 in the afternoon when I'm alone.
Or just lie on the floor on my back staring at the ceiling istead of actually "sitting up" to a crunch.  
I'm inherently hard-working,
but incessantly unmotivated these days.
But, like any other phase,
any new transition, 
eventually we find our way.
Gain new insights and become motivated by new inspirations.
Mine will probably be at the bottom of a pint of ice cream.


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