We have had a lot of "family time" around the house lately. Last week I became insanely ill and The Husband had to take a sick day Friday. He should have taken one on Thursday because that was the worst day in the history of parenting solo while sick days. (A fever of 104- and I had to make peanut butter & jelly sandwiches) But it's a hard call to make when you're ill, and frankly I would beg him to take every day off instead of leaving me here alone with the savages. Yet, I digress...
So he's home Friday, then the weekend, then I remember he has taken the entire week of Memorial Day off for one of his vacation weeks. Riiiight. This is the place in which we are at: We've spent a whole week mostly cooped up indoors with one or more of the family recuperating from the plague. And we have two more days to go until Husband goes back to work. (he's sitting right next to me on the couch playing that infernal dice with friends game. If I have to listen to that fake-dice-rolling for one more minute- I am going to get out the knives...)
The children- the twins mostly- have been well for the better part of this week are bored to tears. SOUL GRINDING TEARS. They are rocketing themselves around the house at dizzying speeds... and throwing stuff- they are throwing stuff at each other. I just... want to punch a wall.
Clearly THEY need to get out. (playdate with children-of-the-plague, anyone? Anyone?) I need to get out. What seems to be holding us back is The Husband. (now he deathly ill)
HOWEVER! I am skeptical. This was also the week that preschool ended. Is the crazy due to the sickness induced cabin fever? Or is this the new normal? The summer of insane psychotic breakdown?
'Cause I just put the kids upstairs watching a movie, with just an hour to go until bedtime, and I walked downstairs simply SEETHING with indignancy. (I'm so upset I blatantly made up a word!) I cannot put up with much more of this togetherness.
I seriously need some alone time. Or a pedicure. Or both.
--- So I wrote that bit last night and forgot to post it. Why? Because somehow The Husband used his spidey senses to detect the separation from mental sanity I was experience and informed me he had already arranged for a babysitter. (I put my laptop down in shock) I would have the break I so desperately needed; He took me out to a nice dinner and a movie.
And we came home and watched a movie from our DVR; Everybody's Fine, proceeded to bawl like an absolute child, and had to be restrained from going into the sleeping children's rooms to give them a big hug.
Perspective is so fickle. It's easy to forget how much we will eventually long for these very days. Our memories will gloss over the sticky floors, the temper tantrums, the refusal to eat entire meals that end up on the floor. What will remain are the toothless grins, the tender running-into-embraces that only a 2 year old can do, watching your child write their name for the first time, the tiny hands holding your pinky finger as you cross the street. At some point these beautiful children will grow up and have lives that don't revolve around me. (now I'm sounding narcissistic, but I don't mean it that way) They will no longer look to me for every want and need. (which sounds like a refreshing change of pace sometimes) I will sit at home and wait for calls to hear about their adventures, their jobs, their own children. I will be on the outskirts, in their peripheral vision.
Well just don't mind me while I get all misty eyed at the mere thought of THAT.
Dang I love those kids. What a complicated relationship we have already. (I won't even start on the conversation I had with The Husband in which he illuminated the fact that Bunny might have personality traits more similar to my own and Squirt is a bit more like him... so there's something more to sort out!)