September 17, 2012
I don't know why, but I am always amazed by how my whole perspective can change in such a short time. Motherhood is filled with high highs and low lows and as Mums we feel every bump in the ride with all the emotion we are capable of.
Josh made a friend at school and it's changed not just his outlook on the school and it's potential fun levels but it's changed how I feel about leaving my little guy there. Watching him enjoy himself on the playground on Thursday and Friday last week made my heart smile (seriously - that's not just a flowery way of putting things into writing).
As we settle into a new and very busy rhythm I have run the gamut of emotions but this week I have found that things are stabilizing. Kaleb loves his school, Josh is getting used to his and I find myself with two mornings a week with a quiet house and I can't say I am complaining.
My morning routine is shot, no more lounging in my PJ's till 10am reheating the same coffee between cleaning the kitchen from breakfast, breaking up fights, arguing over who had the toy first, or trying to track down my hair elastic so that I can once again throw my hair in a pony tail to hide the fact that I didn't get to wash and style it. No, my mornings are different. Now I hop out of bed, rush through a bowl of yogurt (usually shared with by Kaleb who can't seem to just let me eat my own breakfast), down a few sips of coffee to get me through an hour, pack snacks and backpacks with the necessary items of the day, put the dog out, grab the quickest and easiest thing to wear for me and track down something clean for the boys to wear and then comes the heinous (again... not just a flowery saying... it's actually heinous) task of getting shoes on. Get Kaleb out the door to the school cab, fighting him into his car seat, listening to the endless tears as he pulls away from the curb, running back into the house, getting Josh's backpack on, fighting him over all the cars he feels should be allowed to go into the backpack, getting his shoes on (slightly less heinous than the task of getting them on his brother) and then running out the door in order to get him into his class line in a timely manner so as not to get into trouble by the waiting teachers (who knew they could still bring on fear long after we have left school behind us?), peel Josh off my arm and force him into the school and then just stand there staring at a closed door.
When that door closes I could sit down right there and not move for two hours but alas, the playground is not equipped with a coffee truck (though it should be, I would buy shares). Instead I make my way home slowly, and when I open the door of the house and the quiet descends on me I smile. I have HOT coffee, listen to MY music, and clean those places that haven't seen a rag or cleaner since I had kids.
Yeah, perspective is relative.