As I attempt to write this, Grace is sitting on my bed, wearing her Dora bathing suit. She is waiting to go to the pool, which we will do after my Tony’s training class ends. It will take three adults to partake in this adventure because there are three littles and they are sneaky, bent on self-destruction and just more energetic than us (because they get a lot more sleep) to the point that it is never a good idea to be outnumbered at any time. Even one on one can be a challenge at times.
Take today. My morning list was; work out, complete some recruiting assignments, write three blog posts and, if all aligns, continue re-writing Broken Warriors, so that I can embark on its sequel without a nagging sense of incompletion that is way too distracting. It all started to go awry around 2:00-is this morning, when we were blinded by bright light. Then off. Then on. Then shrieking. Apparently Grace was awake and wanted to sleep in our bed. So I let her come in and tried to convince her not to cry, because Tony’s first exercise class is at 4:30 am so he is wakes up at 3:00. For the next 45 minutes, I plotted in my head how to get Grace back into her own bed, so that I could workout at 4:30-5:30 (my only window before the beasties wake up) and still get my writing and recruiting done AND go to the pool at 11:00am.
Somehow, and unexpectedly, Grace let me put her to bed and I got the workout done (CHECK), and the beasties cooperated somewhat. Gabi started at 7:00 on cue and at 7:05 Grace woke back up. Now, Tony and I made several conscious choices that lead me to where I am today and to complain about it would be counterproductive and just ungrateful. But, sometimes it does seem like our choices work better on paper than in reality.
Keep in mind, two little things; screening resumes and three blogs. Here is the dialogue from the last fifteen minutes since I started writing this article:
G: Mommy I am being very quiet. Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?
Me: Yes, Grace?
G: I am being very quiet.
Me: Thanks for that.
G: Look Mommy! I can color on the bed!
Me: STOP COLORING ON THE BED!!!
G: I love you Mommy, even when you talk mean to me.
Me: I love you too. Please don’t color on the bed.
G: Can we go swimming now?
Me: In half an hour. Can you please let Mommy write for half an hour?
G: Sure Mommy. Sure. Here Mommy, here’s a crown for you.
G: No Mommy. Put it on. PUT IT ONNNNNNNNNNNN!
Me; Okay. Just let me finish, okay?
G: Now me. I have a crown too.
Me: Grace. If I don’t finish my work I can’t go swimming, and if I can’t go no one can go. So can you please just give me twenty minutes? (Starts sniveling. Me that is, not her)
G: When you feel so mad, that you want to ROAR, take a deep breath and count to four. That’s from Daniel Tiger. Do you feel better now Mommy?
Me. I guess. Can you please go downstairs and play with Gabi now?
G: No. I have to go to the POTTY!! (Triumphantly waving her trump card, which I truly can’t refuse after two years of begging. Uses potty.) Mommy, you can come wipe my bum now!
Me: (under breath) yay.
The babies would be in here too if they could figure out the doorknob, and I fear that day is approaching. As it is, whenever they can, they wait outside my room, slamming their palms on the door. Sometimes I want to cry and sometimes I am aware of how very soon this will be a memory and my kids will be way too cool to hang out with me. I remind myself that I wanted to work from home so I could be around them more and that there will be time to write sometime. I can get into a lot of gratitude and realize how blessed I am. Then, Grace will ask me to sing the ‘don’t be afraid’ song to her poopy so it will come out – and I do – and a well-paying job in corporate America has never sounded so good or so far away. Is this really me? And now, I hear the door close, which means Tony’s clients have left, which means it’s SWIMMING TIME!! Not a bad life overall…