mommie dearest...
is certainly not a title anyone would wear proudly. Unfortunately it is a title I bestowed upon myself yesterday morning. Mornings are generally pretty crazy in this house as I suspect they are in any home with school aged children. For this reason I love to get up early. I like my hour to two hour of quiet time before the children wake. I need this quiet time to be productive and to start my day on the right foot. Without it I am lost. I call this my Calm Before the Storm!
At 7:00 I wake the children and the morning frenzy begins. It begins with a mad dash for the shower and if you are not the first or second person in there you have to wait for the water tank to heat up again. (We have long shower-takers here.) Someone always needs something to wear that cannot be found and even though they wear uniforms, there is always some morning dress snafu. Always. It could be that my 5 year old wants to wear shorts even though the snow outside is as deep as he is tall. Or it could be that my daughter cannot find her plaid skirt that I placed, the night before, on the white wicker trunk in her bedroom as I told her to please hang it up. But the skirt is missing and as always, it is my fault.
The 9 year old is now out of the shower sitting on his bed dripping. I know he is contemplating crawling back in. He is not my morning person. This is never a good thing. But this morning it is really not a good thing. He has to finish a project for school that he has known about for two weeks. A project that I have known about for two weeks. A project that I have been urging him to start for two weeks. A project that we have discussed at length for two weeks.
Now, one of the problems with working, even though I absolutely love my job, is that my time with the children is very limited these days. I don't see them much in the evening and I have been working so many weekends that I have not seen much of them then either. This is perhaps the hardest thing for me these days, especially after being home with them for the past 12 years. When I do see them it seems like I am always harping on them about their homework and projects, and since I am not around to oversee them in the daytime I get to pick up the pieces and be the mean guy. And when a project that we have known about for two weeks is still not done two days before it is due, I really become the bad guy.
As with many children and adults with ADHD there is a tendency to procrastinate. I get this and I am a great procrastinator. With big projects I have been a last minute kind of person myself. I operate well this way. I work fast and furiously to get the job done. Christopher has indeed inherited this trait. But he is not mature enough yet to know how to handle finishing things well and properly at the last minute.
As he sits on his bed dripping with his project, unfinished, looming like a large storm I start my morning yelling. And it seems not to stop until we arrive at school. His class has just finished reading From the Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, a great book that I loved and read when I was his age. His project was to create a museum of his own. His is a Star Wars Lego Museum. He does not have much left to do, but given the fact that he is still not dressed and we have half an hour before we have to leave has me concerned.
I am focusing all my attention on him and I must finish getting myself dressed and I must help Alexander get dressed. The kids still need to make their beds as must I. Yes, I make the children make their beds every morning. More yelling ensues. Rebecca has found her plaid skirt. In her drawer. Wadded up, of course. And she did not absolutely not put it there. So I must have. More yelling ensues. Now she is yelling at me. I finish getting myself dressed. I let Alexander get himself dressed. No, you absolutely cannot wear shorts today. Now he's yelling at me. I am the worst Momma ever and he is never ever going to listen to me again or ever do anything I ask him to do. Ever again. More yelling. Now he's yelling at me!
Kids need to brush their teeth. Kids need breakfast. Christopher needs his meds as well. He's working on his project... the finishing touches are coming into place but with just 15 minutes left on the clock I worry. And I have no time to make them a proper breakfast. And I start yelling again as the hands on the clock start speeding ahead. The kids have assembly as they do every Wednesday. And as on every Wednesday morning the parking lot at school is over-run by cars and too large SUVs. Christopher's museum is larger than life and I worry about it falling apart in the snow or as we cross the road. More yelling.
Of course we get to school and there is no parking. Anywhere. So I do what any terrible and any law disrespecting despicable person would do. I park in one of the handicapped spaces. I leave my flashers on as an indicator that I do plan on moving the car.
I help Christopher inside and tell Alexander that once and for all he has to go into the Kindergarten classroom by himself and that he has got to stop clinging to me. I give him a gentle shove and tell him to scoot. He trudges off and the sad look in his eyes immediately has my heart crumbling into a million little pieces. I keep prodding Christopher ahead who seems to be walking in slow motion, as though he is on the moon with no gravity. I manage to get him upstairs and then learn that he is performing during assembly. Shit. Rebecca is also going to be called on stage during assembly. Shit. I still have to move the car. Shit.
I run out and move the car. I am graced with a spot just large enough for me and my too large SUV right in front. I run back in. I have missed Rebecca and barely miss Christopher. I glance at my watch. I have to run. I have a couple of emails to tend to before having to be at work in an hour.
I rush out of the school and into the car. As I approach Starbucks, where I will stop for a cup of coffee, I realize that I never said goodbye to Alexander! I never gave him his hugs and kisses and never got to tell him to have a good day. I was so distracted by the chaos of the morning that I had completely forgotten about my baby! As this dawns on me the image of his sad little face and his small little body that broke my heart a half an hour earlier now causes tears to stream down my cheeks. I feel beyond awful.
As soon as I get on line I pull out my phone and call the school and as for his teacher's voice mail. I leave a brief message explaining the chaos of the morning and as a result I had completely forgotten about Alexander. I tell her to tell him that I love him and to please give him a hug and a kiss from me. I know she will do this. She is that kind of teacher. I feel better knowing this, but still the events of the morning leave me with a very heavy heart.
At 7:00 I wake the children and the morning frenzy begins. It begins with a mad dash for the shower and if you are not the first or second person in there you have to wait for the water tank to heat up again. (We have long shower-takers here.) Someone always needs something to wear that cannot be found and even though they wear uniforms, there is always some morning dress snafu. Always. It could be that my 5 year old wants to wear shorts even though the snow outside is as deep as he is tall. Or it could be that my daughter cannot find her plaid skirt that I placed, the night before, on the white wicker trunk in her bedroom as I told her to please hang it up. But the skirt is missing and as always, it is my fault.
The 9 year old is now out of the shower sitting on his bed dripping. I know he is contemplating crawling back in. He is not my morning person. This is never a good thing. But this morning it is really not a good thing. He has to finish a project for school that he has known about for two weeks. A project that I have known about for two weeks. A project that I have been urging him to start for two weeks. A project that we have discussed at length for two weeks.
Now, one of the problems with working, even though I absolutely love my job, is that my time with the children is very limited these days. I don't see them much in the evening and I have been working so many weekends that I have not seen much of them then either. This is perhaps the hardest thing for me these days, especially after being home with them for the past 12 years. When I do see them it seems like I am always harping on them about their homework and projects, and since I am not around to oversee them in the daytime I get to pick up the pieces and be the mean guy. And when a project that we have known about for two weeks is still not done two days before it is due, I really become the bad guy.
As with many children and adults with ADHD there is a tendency to procrastinate. I get this and I am a great procrastinator. With big projects I have been a last minute kind of person myself. I operate well this way. I work fast and furiously to get the job done. Christopher has indeed inherited this trait. But he is not mature enough yet to know how to handle finishing things well and properly at the last minute.
As he sits on his bed dripping with his project, unfinished, looming like a large storm I start my morning yelling. And it seems not to stop until we arrive at school. His class has just finished reading From the Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, a great book that I loved and read when I was his age. His project was to create a museum of his own. His is a Star Wars Lego Museum. He does not have much left to do, but given the fact that he is still not dressed and we have half an hour before we have to leave has me concerned.
I am focusing all my attention on him and I must finish getting myself dressed and I must help Alexander get dressed. The kids still need to make their beds as must I. Yes, I make the children make their beds every morning. More yelling ensues. Rebecca has found her plaid skirt. In her drawer. Wadded up, of course. And she did not absolutely not put it there. So I must have. More yelling ensues. Now she is yelling at me. I finish getting myself dressed. I let Alexander get himself dressed. No, you absolutely cannot wear shorts today. Now he's yelling at me. I am the worst Momma ever and he is never ever going to listen to me again or ever do anything I ask him to do. Ever again. More yelling. Now he's yelling at me!
Kids need to brush their teeth. Kids need breakfast. Christopher needs his meds as well. He's working on his project... the finishing touches are coming into place but with just 15 minutes left on the clock I worry. And I have no time to make them a proper breakfast. And I start yelling again as the hands on the clock start speeding ahead. The kids have assembly as they do every Wednesday. And as on every Wednesday morning the parking lot at school is over-run by cars and too large SUVs. Christopher's museum is larger than life and I worry about it falling apart in the snow or as we cross the road. More yelling.
Of course we get to school and there is no parking. Anywhere. So I do what any terrible and any law disrespecting despicable person would do. I park in one of the handicapped spaces. I leave my flashers on as an indicator that I do plan on moving the car.
I help Christopher inside and tell Alexander that once and for all he has to go into the Kindergarten classroom by himself and that he has got to stop clinging to me. I give him a gentle shove and tell him to scoot. He trudges off and the sad look in his eyes immediately has my heart crumbling into a million little pieces. I keep prodding Christopher ahead who seems to be walking in slow motion, as though he is on the moon with no gravity. I manage to get him upstairs and then learn that he is performing during assembly. Shit. Rebecca is also going to be called on stage during assembly. Shit. I still have to move the car. Shit.
I run out and move the car. I am graced with a spot just large enough for me and my too large SUV right in front. I run back in. I have missed Rebecca and barely miss Christopher. I glance at my watch. I have to run. I have a couple of emails to tend to before having to be at work in an hour.
I rush out of the school and into the car. As I approach Starbucks, where I will stop for a cup of coffee, I realize that I never said goodbye to Alexander! I never gave him his hugs and kisses and never got to tell him to have a good day. I was so distracted by the chaos of the morning that I had completely forgotten about my baby! As this dawns on me the image of his sad little face and his small little body that broke my heart a half an hour earlier now causes tears to stream down my cheeks. I feel beyond awful.
As soon as I get on line I pull out my phone and call the school and as for his teacher's voice mail. I leave a brief message explaining the chaos of the morning and as a result I had completely forgotten about Alexander. I tell her to tell him that I love him and to please give him a hug and a kiss from me. I know she will do this. She is that kind of teacher. I feel better knowing this, but still the events of the morning leave me with a very heavy heart.