Saturday it was about 34 degrees and snowing. Eleven a.m. found us at another princess-a-licious fourth birthday party, this time going down at a community center indoor pool, and this time with boys and girls.
A sign of where my life is right now: the chit chat with my fellow moms poolside was the most social fun I've had outside the family in months. I want to hug them all as we leave with our tantrumy toddlers.
One mom (mother of 4 year old gorgeous big sister to another beautiful 14 month old girl), tells me her husband passed away right before her baby was born last January. I've been thinking of her ever since. I've known her casually for 2 years and that I did not know this fact makes me ashamed of myself. In my memory I can still see her husband's car pulling up outside the daycare to drop off their daughter, one of the first little girls Mia met when she started daycare. We just went to their princess birthday party a month and a half ago. Daddy wasn't there and I just glossed right over that fact.
I spend a lot of time alone with my kids. Darin works a lot and sleeps a lot and perhaps just because I'm Mom, they are my only company for long periods of time. I love being with them, Mia's conversation and Quinn's drooly kisses / boogers left on my work shirts. There is no point in whining about the exhaustion. It is unrelenting and irrelevant. It goes without saying that the kids are worth it, they need me, and from me they will learn how to handle hard moments. I know one day I'll look back and this will all have gone by in a flash and that will make me sad. So when I get only two hours sleep because Quinn has a cough and Mia comes in loudly requesting a drink when he finally drifts off at 5am, I get mad at Darin for not being home or life in general and sometimes cry and I wonder when am I ever going to have time TO JUST CHILL OUT A SECOND. But I try not to wish any time away, and just go have a cup of coffee.
This is another reason I am ashamed when I think of my mommy friend from the princess party. She gets to do all that too, plus mourn for her future with her husband and her girls' future with their father. Every once in a while Darin and I get to share a laugh or a tear over the kids. The moments occur without warning and are gone in a flash. My mommy friend doesn't have anyone to share those flashes with.
Another mom, this one of a four year old sibling-less boy, was telling me about her decision to quit her job this year and stay at home. Her husband works six days a week for the postal service, swing shift. She was very talkative and all with the TMI, (like I imagine I always am!) and mentioned in midstream that it is lonely "but it will all be worth it one day."
Another mom told me that her husband had spent the day before fishing and that morning putting together some furniture. After a pause she says, totally in a cheery voice with a smile on her face: "yeah, he needs some alone time with that furniture. So he didn't come to the birthday party."
Are we all lonely? Darin spent most of that party with Mia in one arm, big sister whose dad is gone in the other, lifting their little faces out of the water and doing laps from one end of the pool to the other while they kicked and laughed.
What do you say?
Like I said, I wanted to give them all hugs when the swimming was over and our duties swung back into rhythm.
Of course the kids fell asleep on the way home.
Next weekend: Parker's 4th birthday party at the Discovery Center. see you there, ladies.
A sign of where my life is right now: the chit chat with my fellow moms poolside was the most social fun I've had outside the family in months. I want to hug them all as we leave with our tantrumy toddlers.
One mom (mother of 4 year old gorgeous big sister to another beautiful 14 month old girl), tells me her husband passed away right before her baby was born last January. I've been thinking of her ever since. I've known her casually for 2 years and that I did not know this fact makes me ashamed of myself. In my memory I can still see her husband's car pulling up outside the daycare to drop off their daughter, one of the first little girls Mia met when she started daycare. We just went to their princess birthday party a month and a half ago. Daddy wasn't there and I just glossed right over that fact.
I spend a lot of time alone with my kids. Darin works a lot and sleeps a lot and perhaps just because I'm Mom, they are my only company for long periods of time. I love being with them, Mia's conversation and Quinn's drooly kisses / boogers left on my work shirts. There is no point in whining about the exhaustion. It is unrelenting and irrelevant. It goes without saying that the kids are worth it, they need me, and from me they will learn how to handle hard moments. I know one day I'll look back and this will all have gone by in a flash and that will make me sad. So when I get only two hours sleep because Quinn has a cough and Mia comes in loudly requesting a drink when he finally drifts off at 5am, I get mad at Darin for not being home or life in general and sometimes cry and I wonder when am I ever going to have time TO JUST CHILL OUT A SECOND. But I try not to wish any time away, and just go have a cup of coffee.
This is another reason I am ashamed when I think of my mommy friend from the princess party. She gets to do all that too, plus mourn for her future with her husband and her girls' future with their father. Every once in a while Darin and I get to share a laugh or a tear over the kids. The moments occur without warning and are gone in a flash. My mommy friend doesn't have anyone to share those flashes with.
Another mom, this one of a four year old sibling-less boy, was telling me about her decision to quit her job this year and stay at home. Her husband works six days a week for the postal service, swing shift. She was very talkative and all with the TMI, (like I imagine I always am!) and mentioned in midstream that it is lonely "but it will all be worth it one day."
Another mom told me that her husband had spent the day before fishing and that morning putting together some furniture. After a pause she says, totally in a cheery voice with a smile on her face: "yeah, he needs some alone time with that furniture. So he didn't come to the birthday party."
Are we all lonely? Darin spent most of that party with Mia in one arm, big sister whose dad is gone in the other, lifting their little faces out of the water and doing laps from one end of the pool to the other while they kicked and laughed.
What do you say?
Like I said, I wanted to give them all hugs when the swimming was over and our duties swung back into rhythm.
Of course the kids fell asleep on the way home.
Next weekend: Parker's 4th birthday party at the Discovery Center. see you there, ladies.
2 comments:
On lighter note, eventually those kids are going to run out of birthdays, there is only so many of them.
yes. the spring seems to be popular. Can't go on EVERY weekend for too long.
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