Living the dream instead of living in dreamland

Firstly, I was completely right about that preschool being "the one."  I went to tour it yesterday.  As the associate director led me around and talked to me about schedules and classrooms and curriculums (yes, red squiggly line, I know it isn't really a word), I found myself feeling vindicated with each passing moment.  Vindicated because I hadn't just daydreamed up an impossibility.  That perfect, affordable place actually exists, and all I have to do is fill out paperwork and get a shot record and write a check, and my son is a part of that perfect place.  I am elated!  (Just let me have my moment.  I know meltdowns and adjustments and frustrations are coming, but right now, we are standing at the edge of perfection, and it feels amazing.)

Secondly, I got a text message yesterday evening about a house that I think is going to be our house soon.  I've checked it out, and I can absolutely picture my little family growing up there.  It's in an incredible school district and is still only about 5 minutes from my parents.  There's tons of room and a huge closet for all of my shoes and a fenced backyard for the kids to play.  (And a room that's pink - ya know, just in case Baby C decides to be a girl or whatever).

Maybe you have all of this already and think it's just not that big a deal.  I had it for about 6 months when Silas was born, and then it was ripped out from beneath me.  So, believe me, it's a huge deal, and I am extremely grateful to my parents for helping me make it a reality for my kids.

Now that we've chatted about all of the awesome, let's chat about the not awesome because maybe you miss the bitchy side of me (I'm sure).

There are a lot of days when my kids fall asleep on the way home at the end of the day.  It's usually 6ish when we start that way, and it is not a short ride.  

Sometimes on those days, I cannot get Silas to get back up no matter what I try.  Yesterday was one of those days.  So, I put him in bed way earlier than normal knowing full well I was in for hell in the middle of the night.  To try to head some of that off, I put his iPad next to him hoping that if he woke up, he'd spy it and quietly watch Netflix until the sun came up.

At 5 a.m., I heard "MOMMA!!"

Much to the rest of the house's dismay, I yelled back "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?"

"MOMMA, CAN I BLOW MY NOSE?"

"OF COURSE YOU CAN BLOW YOUR NOSE."

Back to sleep.

10 minutes later.

"MOMMA!"

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?"

"MOMMA, CAN I GO POTTY?"

Really?

"YES, SON, YOU CAN GO PEE."

At this point, there was a lot of huffing and rolling around in the bed next to me.  Gavin could be heard stirring and whimpering down the hall.  This exchange was beginning to annoy the rest of the house.

Ugh.  Fine.  I got up and made a bottle and made sure Silas was tucked back into bed.  (He was totally watching a movie on his iPad, BTW.  I just forgot to plan for the fact that he - very sweetly, ahem - asks permission before doing anything.)

Kids' needs met.  Back to bed.

"MOMMA!!!"

My patience?  Nearly gone.  More flopping and huffing next to me.

In an effort to stop involving the rest of the house, I tiptoe out of bed and down the hall.

In a whisper (a little more harsh a whisper than was absolutely necessary).

"What?!"

"Momma, can I have some tissue?"

Sigh

I gathered all of the tissue and took it to his room and placed it in his lap.

"Here.  Please stop yelling at me.  It is very early.  I'm going to lay back down.  If you need to pee or blow your nose, that is fine.  You don't need to ask."

And I got about 15 minutes peace out of him.

"MOMMA!!"

My patience?  Completely and totally gone.  Flopping and huffing.

I jump out of bed and stomp down the hall.

"WHAT?!"

"Is it time to get up?"

Oh good lord, child.  "NO.  Please watch your movie quietly.  You're going to wake your brother up, and then we're all going to have a bad day."

And all too soon, it was time to wake up, but I didn't care.  I kept hitting snooze.  Right on through Jimmy getting ready for work.  Right on through him trying to figure out who should take which car and me continually responding "I don't care.  I don't care.  I don't care.  Just take the truck. I. DON'T. CARE."

When Gavin started howling for food, I dejectedly dragged down the hall to make a bottle.  On the way, I rescued Silas from his bedroom to watch cartoons and eat cereal with me on the couch.  

Against my better judgment, I grabbed my phone, and I accidentally picked a text message fight with my boyfriend.  I was just so damn tired and he made the mistake of responding to me.  (No, I'm not sure why he hasn't learned yet, the poor thing).

Then I went outside to put our bags in the car and saw that the carseats had been moved over from the truck to the rental car (someone tried to destroy my Jeep again, and it is in the shop) and he hooked them up and my swipe card for the garage at work was sitting in the console - instead of completely forgotten where I left it in the truck and causing me to have to scrounge for change to get out of the garage.  Ugh.  He's so thoughtful, and I'm such an asshole.  

So, I had to bow my head in shame and tuck my tail between my legs and apologize to everyone for the crazy and give the boys extra hugs and I love yous.  

This is what it is to be a parent so much of the time.  Just exhaustion and frustration and losing patience and taking it out on the other grown ups in your life and then, of course, the guilt.  But you do it because you love them so much you'd stop breathing if you didn't have them.  You do it because the good far exceeds the exhaustion and frustration.  You do it because it is the only thing in the world that really matters.

I cannot even imagine the circus that is to ensue in February.  A four year old and 2 under 2.  Hahahahahahahahahaha!  All I can do is laugh at the lunacy of it.

But, I feel incredibly blessed to have been entrusted with the care of three children.  I have never loved anything as much as I love being a mom.  As much as I love my kids.

And I feel like the luckiest woman in the world to have stumbled upon a partner who is so so good at this.  So incredibly compatible with this crazy life.  And so happy to just jump in and be there in the thick of it.  In the middle of the night.  Or at dawn.  With the yelling and the stomping and the crazy girl cranky texting.  Always quick with a hug and an I love you and it's going to be alright...how can I help?

This truly is living the dream.  Sleep deprivation, silly text fights and all.

Happy hump day!