Today, I would like to be acknowledged for the fact that I did not drop the children off at their respective schools and day cares, then drive to the bank, withdraw all of our remaining savings, and drive off somewhere far away in an attempt to start a new child-free life.
Which is not to say that there were no moments of fantasizing about it.
One of those moments was at 4 am, when Josie woke up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to play. She’d barely napped yesterday, 10 minutes here, 15 minutes there. Between church and hanging out at Freddy and Andy’s house, where cousin Antonia brought their new dog, it was just too exciting for such mundane activities as sleeping and eating. I thought maybe Josie would sleep better last night, and maybe she did. I was too tired to notice. Either way, she was wide awake at 4 am.
Another one of those moments was at around 6:20 am. Noah took a large drink of apple-cherry juice into his mouth, but instead of swallowing, simply left his mouth hanging open so that the juice flowed over his chin onto his shirt and pants, the table, and the floor.
A third moment of the fantasy came up at 7:35 am, when I announced that it was time to get ready to go to school. Noah dribbled the last drops of milk from his bowl to the table, then stuck his fingers into the drops of milk, and then wiped them off on the wall.
Possibly the biggest moment of the fantasy was on Saturday morning. We’d gone over to Grandma & Grandpa’s house to water their plants and take in their mail while they were out of town. Without getting into an inappropriate level of detail that would make Noah want to kill me when he becomes a teenager, let’s just say that Grandma should definitely ask her cleaning service to do an extra-disinfecting job on the kitchen floor next time. And I apologize for the pile of wet clothes and shoes I left in Grandma’s laundry room.
I seriously do not understand how you single moms do it. You amaze me. Also you parents with deployed spouses, or spouses who travel extensively for work. I am only 25% done with this current solo parenting run, and as much as I love Noah and Josie, I am crystal clear that I am not cut out to be their only parent.
Luckily, the multiple personality disorder that is 3 has a wonderfully sweet side too. Noah covered me with kisses at dropoff, before giving me our ritual push out the door and running in to listen to stories with his classmates.
Noah’s 3 years and 3 months letter will be tomorrow. I think.
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