Slo-Mo
I've come to the realization that to get through a full day alone with the kids, I need to work it out in slow motion. Everything has to be done with the restrained diligence of brain surgery on a deadline. You need to move faster, but you just can't or someone will get hurt.
Yesterday Harrison had the day off from preschool. I was going to spend the morning working while Robin watched the kids, but I powered through work on Sunday instead so he could get a good start at his own job (you know, the one that pays the bills).
With ten hours ahead of the three of us, and windy rain outside, I set the morning free with uninhibited mess-making. I almost took pictures. There is no human alive today that could clean up as fast as the kids make a mess. But I figured, the bigger the mess, the longer it will take to clean up, the more hours will be used up. So I slowly folded five loads of laundry, trying to ignore the hurricane behind me.
Walking from room to room with the speed of viscous lava, I had that tunnel vision experience, where whatever’s in front of you keeps moving further ahead, even as you’re walking towards it. Must keep walking to get ... what did I come to this room for?
Whenever I talked to the kids, I made a real effort to enunciate and get all the words out, despite their shrill screaming and repetitive questioning. They want the answer NOW, not when you’ve had half a second to think about it. They want the juice NOW, not after you’ve thought about which drawer the cups are in. They’re never hungry except RIGHT THIS MINUTE, so feed me or I’m going to tell everyone you starve your children. It’s really in my best interest to have a cup of every possible liquid at the ready, and breakfast/lunch/dinner waiting with no heating required.
All said and done, with the right attitude, the day went by quite pleasantly. I was surprisingly productive and the kids were incredibly cooperative. Gigi even napped while Harrison watched A Bug’s Life so I could work.
I guess looking towards a long day with no help (even from the sun) resigns you to making it work no matter what. Sort of like finding out you’re pregnant. You just give in to the helplessness right at the start to conserve energy and prevent from going insane. It’s really the only option because like pregnancy, the day after is when you really need your reserves.
Yesterday Harrison had the day off from preschool. I was going to spend the morning working while Robin watched the kids, but I powered through work on Sunday instead so he could get a good start at his own job (you know, the one that pays the bills).
With ten hours ahead of the three of us, and windy rain outside, I set the morning free with uninhibited mess-making. I almost took pictures. There is no human alive today that could clean up as fast as the kids make a mess. But I figured, the bigger the mess, the longer it will take to clean up, the more hours will be used up. So I slowly folded five loads of laundry, trying to ignore the hurricane behind me.
Walking from room to room with the speed of viscous lava, I had that tunnel vision experience, where whatever’s in front of you keeps moving further ahead, even as you’re walking towards it. Must keep walking to get ... what did I come to this room for?
Whenever I talked to the kids, I made a real effort to enunciate and get all the words out, despite their shrill screaming and repetitive questioning. They want the answer NOW, not when you’ve had half a second to think about it. They want the juice NOW, not after you’ve thought about which drawer the cups are in. They’re never hungry except RIGHT THIS MINUTE, so feed me or I’m going to tell everyone you starve your children. It’s really in my best interest to have a cup of every possible liquid at the ready, and breakfast/lunch/dinner waiting with no heating required.
All said and done, with the right attitude, the day went by quite pleasantly. I was surprisingly productive and the kids were incredibly cooperative. Gigi even napped while Harrison watched A Bug’s Life so I could work.
I guess looking towards a long day with no help (even from the sun) resigns you to making it work no matter what. Sort of like finding out you’re pregnant. You just give in to the helplessness right at the start to conserve energy and prevent from going insane. It’s really the only option because like pregnancy, the day after is when you really need your reserves.
posted by Anne at 11:50 AM
2 Comments:
It's funny, but even as they get older not a whole lot changes. I can find a trail of socks and shoes through the house to the computer Cole is sitting at... unaware of his mess. A candy wrapper might be stuffed nearby and his jacket thrown on the floor.
If he needs something, chances are he doesn't get why what youre doing is also important. Sure, hormones are different in teenagers and cause them to have peaks and valleys that children don't quite have yet, but my point is...
It doesn't get any better :)
Yeah, I know. And the bribes get more expensive too. M&Ms work for now, but by the time kids reach 35, you have to give them an iPhone just so they stop putting wet towels on your side of the bed.
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