You may hate me after this

I had something else scheduled to talk about today.

But I need to tell you about yesterday.

First you should know about my two oldest kids, though. They are beautiful lovely lights of my life, but they are loud as hell. They also have this uncanny knack for choosing the MOST inopportune times to interject themselves.

Prime example:

The entire family went to see UP (minus Lucy, of course. Also, if you haven’t seen that movie, do it immediately. Don’t even finish reading). We sat, left to right, thus: Josh, me, Max, Dan, and Ava.

Dan and the kids had already seen this particular movie once, but they’d come again for the 3D.

The movie commences, and we reach the part of the touching intro where a weeping Ellie is slumped over on an exam table while the doctor looks sad and Carl looks lost and helpless.

The entire theater was quiet, soft.

The lady in front of me was sniffling.

I lost a few tears. My throat was thick.

And in the wake of that beautifully sad, artfully conveyed, wordless moment that tore every adult’s heart right out of its’ casing, my daughter leaned over her dad’s lap, 3D glasses all akimbo, and stage whispered,

Mom? MOM? SHE’S CRYING BECAUSE THE DOCTOR SAID SHE CAN’T HAVE A BABY AND SO SHE’S SUPER SAD.”

Yeah. We pretty much have a repeat of that on an hourly basis.

That’s why yesterday morning, when I heard a timid knock on my bedroom door, I did little but roll my eyes emphatically. Lucy had had an awful night (molars are a bitch) and she was finally sleeping, and I was not about to call out to answer whoever was at the door.

So I was quiet.

Ten minutes later, knockknockknockKNOCKKNOCK.

Again, I was quiet. Surely they would get the message.

Nope.

knockKNOCKknock

So I did a stage whisper of my own: “what???”

The door opened, and in walked a child. I didn’t have my glasses on at that point, so I only halfway thought it might be Max. While I fumbled around for my glasses, I told him how it was.

“My lord, Max, that was three times, can you not TAKE a HINT that maybe some people are still resting and don’t need you being all loud and…”

Glasses on. And then I saw him. Standing awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if he should leave or stay, balancing a perilously flimsy paper plate full of something.

“I…I realized that we haven’t really given you a day off since it’s the summer and so I brought you breakfast.”

Hello, world? It’s nice to meet you. In case you don’t know, my name is TOTAL DOUCHEBAG.

He quickly forgave me when I gushed apologies and told him how wonderful he is, but the guilt will live on healthily in my heart for a long, long time.

Day 18 of 30 day challenge

day 18- A picture that makes you feel

I don’t know if the last word got cut off or what, but I like this.

Pictures – I’m not overly great at taking them, but they speak. They really do.

For example, this one is saying, “we like to watch movies.”

I don’t have many pictures of all three of the kids together. It makes me feel all lovey and fuzzy to see them like that.

Confessions

My kids have been gone since Wednesday.

It’s Sunday night, and we’re waiting for them to come home.

Anyone with kids realizes what a long time that is for them to have been away. I knew it was going to be different, but…well, I’ll just say it: I didn’t think I was going to miss them very much.

GASP. I know, I know, it makes me a horrible mom and a generally shitty person. But hey, it’s summertime, and I’ve been missing some of the sanity that comes with the kids being gone for multiple hours a day.

But a couple of days ago, I caught myself thinking I saw Ava Thomas peeking in the garage door.

That’s right, folks, hallucinations! Free of charge.

….

Well, now they’re home, and by the time you read this they’ll have been sleeping for several hours.

I caught myself waiting by the door, watching for headlights down the road.

It was like waiting for a date. Why do we do that, anyway? I mean, seeing a car coming your way does not then make said car arrive any sooner. It does make you look doucheish, and a bit like you have no life. But hey, the truth hurts.

I’m glad they’re back. I’m saying that now, because I’m pretty sure in a few hours’ time all my sweet sentiments will be gone.

I admit it. I miss ‘em.

My kids wanted to call last night, but Lucy was asleep on my arm and I knew we’d be loud.

So they sent me videos instead.

A part of me (the same part that expected the new dog to be a stink free snuggle bunny) wishes I were there with them, to see the glee in their eyes and to be a part of their memories.

Then I remember all the reality. The crowds and the money and the fact that I pretty much hate people.

I’ll just watch the videos, thanks.

Get out of here, kids.

Today my children set off to the happiest place on earth.

At least that’s what I’ve heard.

About the happiness, that is. I know they’re setting off to somewhere.

I’ve never been to DisneyWorld, and lots of people gasp when I tell them that, but it’s true. It just never happened when I was a kid, and now that I’m an adult it’s too expensive, too hot – too stressful.

I know I come across as a meek and gentle flower, but I can just visualize myself in that environment, hot and sweaty and crowded…and I would end up in jail.

I’m just saying, a day in the sun where I’m spending too much money and surrounded by crazed, uncourteous, entitled people? I’d cut a fool. No lie.

Which is why I’m grateful that my former husband is meek and accommodating, and patient to a fault with the kids. A trip to Disney is right up his alley.

What I’m not so sure about is the kids going away.

Don’t get me wrong, my kids have been away from me before. Hoo boy. They have happily coexisted in two households for most of their lives, and the fact that we all share a house now is nothing monumental to them. They’re beautifully adaptive and odd. I love them.

But they’re getting on a plane. TWO planes, actually, and then they’ll be off having a ball. And if they’re hurt I can’t help. If/when they’re obnoxious I can’t give them the LOOK. If they get lost I can’t curse at a Mickey eared cop until I get my kid back.

Ava sat in my lap last night and cried because I couldn’t go. She said she wanted me to see her in the plane.

While I’m sure she summoned the tears in the name of conning me into coddling her, it made me realize how much I’m going to miss them.

butthehouseisgoingtobequiet

I can’t wait to hear the stories about roller coasters and princesses, video games and hotel rooms.

And as much as I’d like to be able to share the joy, I know it’s better to hear it secondhand when you are as far from being a people person as I am.