Everyone in our home is tired.
Like, can't keep your head up, even when riding a tractor at a pumpkin patch, tired.
Like, hugging a tree and digging your toddler feet into the ground, and refusing to leave said pumpkin patch, tired.
Like kicking the furniture and exclaiming you are bored (no picture for that one), tired.
It is understandable.
I mean, we did prep the house in a flurry of activities, cut short the school year, soccer season, and say good-bye to everyone, all within 2 short weeks. We did drive for 5 days, leave our daddy behind, continue our journey with Muma, and arrive in another flurry of activity, only to jump into a week's worth of Halloween festoonery (how does one spell festoonery? < This looked right to me), and then a massive unload all whilst the children sat and watched television all day long.
I know, I know, call the homeschool police. What exactly were my children learning during those 5 days of unpacking? How to use a remote? How to pick fights with their siblings, and then push me to my limit, causing me to want to say, "go do something!", but couldn't, because, there wasn't anything out of boxes yet for them to do.
This is when I started pondering my skills and abilities as a mother.
Prior to our leaving, we decided to just go for the major "fun factor", and do all the things we had wanted to do before, but never had time. We barely scraped the surface, because, sadly, things to do=money, and that is always in short supply.
BUT, we did do a bunch of activities right before we left. We went to Knotts Berry Farm as many times as we could, because we have passes, and wanted to go as often as we could make time for. We were bouncing from here to there, seeing friends, going to parties. We were living the rock star life (not really, but you get the picture). Never a dull moment.
It struck me, as I was unpacking, that the kids were probably coming down from that mega-activity high, and probably would have been bored, just doing their normal life, in their normal routine. But then to add a move, and a whole new home, and 5 days of doing nothing. Torture, I think.
So in my attempt to make their lives full of fun and joy, I may have made things worse.
In my head, I was going to give myself a month to just take my time and get everything settled. I knew we would be getting into the snowy months, and then I would have time to spare. I don't know why I honestly thought I could give myself a month. Who was I fooling?
I am way too high strung, and I needed the house to be unpacked, and organized so I could feel functionable (also not a word, right? But I like it).
On day 2 of unpacking, I was desperately trying to find our coffee pot, so that I could beat Kevin's migraine to the punch. I was afraid a morning without caffeine would be bad news for him. I was ripping open box after box, finding nothing that I needed. Kevin suggested that we run out and pick up some food. Then it happened. The second time I was stopped in my tracks, left to wonder, "either I should take this as a compliment, or I am a horrible, horrible mother."
Katelyn started bawling, and said she couldn't eat another meal out. She needed a mommy lunch. Could I pleeeeease just make them something to eat?
Oh, my poor little dear.
Pushed to the brink by days of fast food, and all her little heart desired was a mommy lunch.
She loves my lunches. Score one for me, right?
But, for reals? My kid is sobbing because I have shoved too much fast food down her gullet.
Negative 10 points for me. Boo.
I put on my big girl pants, because that's what you have to do when you are a mom, and I started ripping open boxes like a crazy maniac. Tape was flying this way and that, all fueled by the desire, to make my poor kid a proper lunch.
That lunch seemed to settle everyone down for a bit. They needed something familiar, something that felt right and comfortable. That day, I made it a point to make the family room completely box free, unpacked, and decorated for Halloween. That seemed to help.
It took 5 full days to unpack the house, and we have been in the house 9 days today.
As anyone who has moved knows, there are so many things to accomplish. Banks to find, insurance to set up, and school stuff to figure out, etc etc.
Today I ventured out all by myself (plus 3 kids of course), and made the 20 mile journey to Costco and Trader Joes. Yes, I passed 10 grocery stores on the way, and no, the thought did not occur to me to shop closer to home. Like that mommy lunch, I needed something familiar, something that felt right, something comfortable.
When we got home from all of that, we drove the opposite direction to a library in another town, so I could speak to a director of Classical Conversations, a homeschool group I want to join.
When you are a parent, your every living breathing thought goes to your children. How am I going to raise them right, am I doing what is best for them? What if this, and what if that? During this move, my mind has been racing all the time, with making sure the kids are ok, adjusting alright, not too cold, feeling secure, the list goes on. I lay awake at night, contemplating the schooling options. Extra curricular activities. How involved we will get with this, or with that.
As a kid, you don't realize that your parents do any work at all (sorry mom), and a lot of the time, you think what they are doing is wrong anyways.
So of course, my kids don't know the extent of my exhaustion, or the hours of brain work I have put in to making sure their little lives are going well. As well they shouldn't. It's not their burden to bear.
But oh, guys, let me tell you....we have been busting to get the house squared away. B-u-s-t-i-n-g.
And today, Emma comes to me with tears in her eyes, and says "Mommy, can we please do school? We really love school, and we miss it, and we have been looking forward to it all day."
Dagger.
It was 7pm.
Normally, I would say, totally, let's do some school, even though it's 7pm.
But I just couldn't.
The school room wasn't even unpacked yet.
We tried to explain to her the best we could, why things have been the way they are, and that soon, it will all be normal again.
Before bed, Emma pleaded that we please do school tomorrow, and I promised her we would.
I kissed her goodnight, and thought again, either I should feel proud that my children love me teaching them, or I just completely suck.
Oh please mommy. Please teach us something. Anything. Our brains are drying up over here, and we just want to use our minds. Something, Anything. Give us a worksheet, we don't care.
(That was an exaggerated re-enactment, but in my head that's what it sounded like to me).
I couldn't sleep on that doozy, so I am proud to say that the school room is 100 percent done, their desks are set up, and we are starting school tomorrow. Wednesday we have our first class outside of the home, and I am hopeful that this is the beginning of our new normal.
With school, and mommy lunches to boot.
Listen, it's been a HARD 2 weeks. You are doing fantastic! Life is not without a few discomforts here and there. Kids are tough, even with a few difficult days under their belts, they will get through this and in a week from now this will all be a memory - fast food and no school and all of it. You're almost there! If you look at this situation from the outside, you're a total Rock Star. You are doing all you can, as fast as you can, so don't let yourself feel guilty. You have to listen to me, because I'm older than you. :)
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