I’m sitting here on my couch reviewing the past week and looking ahead to the next. My daughter is trying on clothes from the cousin hand-me-down bag (which is amazing).
We are on Day 2 of fall break. Day 1 was parent-teacher conferences, an hour in the office at work, Cosmic Kids Space Club, and dance class.
Space club is a group of my son’s buddies that were invited to check out Saturn on one of the boy’s grandpa’s telescope.
We just finished soybean harvest. The guys are drilling on the last few dozen acres of wheat. For a blessed day, we are still a few points too damp for milo harvest.
As I sit here, I realize that the role of mother, wife and working mom isn’t what wears me out. It’s all the extras.
It’s the Ear Nose and Throat specialist we will visit in Monday for 3 rounds of strep throat in 60 days. The additional meeting I need to attend.
It makes me wonder how necessary some of those commitments are. The ENT is a must. What about the others?
At kids’ youth group Wednesday night, another volunteer from the generation before mine asked me if my parents scrambled around as much as my generation is to make it all happen. After a few days of thought, I’m convinced they did. However, I don’t think it started this young.
Is it really going to put my kids at a disadvantage if they don’t do that next extra activity?
I speculate that having a mom who isn’t scurrying, rushing and occasionally loosing her
sh*t patience is likely better for everyone.
Ah the joy of the Christmas vacation from school…
I’d like to
freak out on thank the amazing and unassuming sales lady who offered my children these free balloons on a solid 18″ plastic stick in the mall on Monday.
We just went to get a package of socks for my husband with a gift certificate and a few
last minute late Christmas gifts. We were day-after-Christmas sale virgins. What in the what?! Who knew it was like the running of the bulls?
The mall was packed. I was frazzled by the time we reached the checkout line of our first of four stores. The same woman almost ran me over with her stroller three times. It was like stroller road rage. We get to the checkout and this sweet 20 year old asks my children “Do you want a balloon?”
Exuberant yes from Thing 1 and Thing 2! I think “how nice of them to give away balloons!”
From store one to store two I am playing tetherball trying to keep my loving littles from pelting other determined shoppers speed walking thru the holiday hustle. By the checkout at store #2, I am ready to confiscate the metal detector and dollhouse that were so excitedly received on Christmas due to the behavior of the balloon holders.
It’s like dodgeball to get from the second store to the car without pummeling someone with the beloved balloons.
Frazzled mom and dad put the offending purple and orange balloons in the backseat…. where my kids find them again this morning to go to town.
What the flip?! Was it seriously not cold enough the last few nights to deflate those suckers? By mile four of our morning car ride, they are beating each other balloon-style, my four year old is howling, and my six year old is overreacting defensively to everything his sister is howling about.
But we do love balloons. Looking back, I should have held my hand up nicely as a non-verbal stop sign when the nice young sales clerk offered the balloons.