There are days when I literally am running to the subway to get home. I am all smiles when I see everyone again after nearly nine hours apart. And then we get home. This is when the real work of my day begins. Homework. Dinner. Laundry. Baths. Books. All of this is of course interspersed with “but why can’t I get on the computer” and “but why can’t we just watch a little TV while you cook” or “but why do I have to sweep the floor” or “how come she doesn’t have to help?” Ugh. Enough already. Computer days are Tuesday and Wednesday, 30 minutes apiece. The television is off until Friday. Sweeping is the eldest’s chore, clearing the floor prior to her sweeping and/or clearing away the dishes is the other’s.
There are days when I dream all day, unable to really complete any work, because I simply would love to be outdoors at a park or the zoo or the library with them. Don’t get me wrong; I do want to earn a living. But I want to earn it on my own terms. Somehow, some way, I have to make working from home work (and pay). I think I’ll be pulling my hair out by the time the boy starts school if I’m still in a 9-5 job outside the house.
Do not be fooled. There are also days when I want to get in the car, drive, and not come back. Days when I look at the people in my house like what planet are you from and why can’t you go back there? I wonder why I can’t pee in peace, why I am refereeing an argument about whose head band it is when there must be 763 head bands in the house, why I can’t have midday tequila. But, these days are so far outnumbered by good ones that they simply fall to the back of my mind in the grand scheme of this life we’ve built.
They grate on my nerves some days like you wouldn’t believe. But, I love them all dearly. When I think about others I know who are struggling with divorce, health issues, financial woes, death…would I change a thing? Not one.