Summer makes me feel like a limp noodle.
Husband announces one night, “I’m thinking about looking into taking my work clothes to the dry cleaner. It takes me a really long time to iron in the morning and we can’t seem to get them folded and off the floor before they get wrinkly and covered in dog hair.”
“We were sitting in your room, playing together with a ball…” says my mother-in-law as she launches into a story about my husband’s childhood that I’ve probably heard no less than 100 times. I focus in on a new aspect of the story, wait, you were playing together? Parents play with their kids? Because I don’t. Or rarely. I kind of just let them do their thing and I do mine.
Why are there so many toys out at once? Why is there such a big mess? Questions my husband asks when he gets home from work.
Um. I don’t know. They were playing.
This, uh, independence, has resulted in a new thing where my kids have started sneaking food and drinks from the pantry instead of asking me to get something for them and eating them in the back of my daughter’s closet behind the dress-up clothes rack.
I don’t know. I feel like I do stuff all day long. I wash at least two loads of dishes. The laundry makes it into the washing machine and dryer. I cook meals. I make things for my kids and our house. We go to the park. Sometimes Jilly & I sit down and do preschool worksheets (because she begs me). We read a lot of books. They look at a lot of books. Jillian recites a lot of books from memory to the others.
So why does it feel like it is never good enough? Why does it feel like I’ll never catch up? How do you ladies do it with the small children and the working out daily and the clean house and the crafts and the Etsy shop or other entrepreneur activities and the healthy eating and the homeschooling and the daily blog posts and the beautiful photographs? Because I’m barely treading water here people and I don’t even make myself have half those responsibilities.