Well, I'm back at it. After having two weeks off to celebrate Christmas and New Years and, actually, to be with my kids who were also on Christmas... d'oh, Cal corrected me... Winter Break from school, I returned to work on Monday. Two whole weeks with the Leatherkids... well, kind of. I did have some breaks from them (a few family distractions, a Leatherkidless trip to Arizona, a few hours here and there locked up in my room to do some work).
Honestly, I attempted this post several times over the past week and a half and failed miserably. When I started, I intended to write about how, during my two weeks of PTO, I felt like I was getting a taste of what it would be like to be a stay-at-home mom, recall how that's what I thought I had wanted and repeatedly thank fate that things didn't work out that way. I have learned that it is so not my thing. Never really was.
But that was difficult to write without being presumptuous, or more presumptuous than I was comfortable doing. It didn't seem possible that I could know what being a stay-at-home mom is like by spending a few days, albeit solid days, with my kids during their time off from school during the holidays. So I abandoned that.
Then I got to thinking: why isn't being a stay-at-home mom my thing? And then I started beating myself up for all of those reasons and, further, all of the things that I don't do for my kids. I don't take them on a lot of play dates or make friends with the moms of their friends. I don't sign them up for ballet and soccer and gymnastics and whatever else it is that all kids are supposed to do, keeping them busy after school the entire year. I am not involved in the PTA (I tried...), nor am I a class mom. I don't walk them to the bus and back. We haven't done a lot of museums or zoos, and crafting is kept at a minimum, partly due to higher priority things trumping it (work, dinner, work, showers, more work) and partly due to lack of collective interest at the time of the proposed craft. I wasn't the primary potty trainer for either Leatherkid, nor did I play much a part in teaching them the alphabet. I didn't do much to teach Cal how to read or to tie his shoes and am currently planning the same approach for Ella, i.e. let someone else do it. I don't play enough board games with my kids. And I still haven't gotten them to that stinkin' local skating rink, something they've been asking to do for some time now. Need more than that? Let me know, and I'll lay them on you.
I had the Leatherkids with me at the veterinarian the Tuesday before New Year's. Our cat, Zoe, had been showing signs of having some kind of worm (uh, as in, she puked up a worm), and the furless patch on her back continues to get bigger -- the flea allergy shot that the vet gave her when I had her in for the same issue last year proved to be ineffective. The vet offered a second explanation for this furless phenomenon during Tuesday's visit, and that was that she could just be stressed. Ya think? He said this as Cal was rolling around on the floor after my sternly insisting he stop doing so on three separate occasions and as Ella was annoyingly baby-talking Zoe right in her face and just before Cal slammed the door on Ella's head. The vet had probably heard the loud, incessant talking coming from the exam room we were in even before he arrived for our appointment.
As we finished up with the vet, I told him "thank you" and "happy new year." He told me the same, and then, from out of left field, I mumbled something to the effect of just wanting to go back to work. His response to me when I said this may have been genuine but was too chauvinistic and stereotypical for me to really appreciate any kindness in it. He said, "I was just going to say, I don't know how you women do it." And he ended with, "you're doing a good job."
You women? Do it? I knew exactly what he meant, or thought I did. It seemed to me that he was suggesting that my primary role in our household was to care for the kids. I don't know if it was just that I was a woman flying solo with my two loud, obnoxious kids during that cat appointment or, moreover, that I looked the stereotypical part in my pen-stained pants and no makeup and sporting some air-dried (but clean), frizzy hair that fell alongside a clenched jaw that was showing the stresses of my day. Could be that wasn't it at all and he was suggesting that I was the primary caregiver (I'm not) in our household and balancing that with work. I wasn't offended by his suggesting either was my role so much as taken aback by it. Either way, he was being incredibly presumptuous. Yes, I am a woman who is a mother; but what is it that I am "doing?"
And that's the point of my post. What AM I doing? Well, I'm doing a lot.
I am working long hours, and the positives (money, fulfillment, success) of this far outweigh the negatives (being tired, less time with my family).
I am making parenting choices that seem right at the time but that turn out to be not so good, and I'm learning from those experiences and adjusting accordingly... usually.
I am taking Ella to porta potties because she likes them despite there sometimes being a normal bathroom a few steps away, and I am supporting Cal and his crazy passion for Pokemon trading cards... well, kind of. Everyone needs a passion.
I am making both good and bad decisions and using both the right and wrong words.
I am putting the Leatherkids in really good schools. I may not be teaching my kids everything, but I'm making sure that they learn what they should. I am raising them. I am making sure my kids' backpacks are packed and ready for school the next day. I am making lunches, sending them to school with Cal and will do the same with Ella.
I am introducing my kids to activities (swimming, baseball, now basketball) when they're ready but not burdening them with too many at any given time. I am working out regularly, and the Leatherkids know, see and sometimes participate in this -- maybe the importance of this will rub off on them. I am trying to fix healthy dinners with fresh, not packaged foods... at least, that's how I shop.
I am making sure not to give the Leatherkids all of my attention every time they crave it -- the world doesn't work that way and won't cater to their every wish and whim, and the sooner they learn that the better off they'll be. I am giving my kids space so they learn how to play together and resolve things themselves and just be independent. Despite the occasional... frequent?... "I don't like yous" and tears shed, they really do enjoy each other's company and like each other.
I am reading to my kids and have been since each was born. I know more about dinosaurs and princesses than I ever thought I would because of this. I taught Cal, the kid who, like his mother, doesn't like to do anything unless he knows he can do it, how to ride a bike.
I am occasionally yelling at the Leatherkids and then feeling better but not proud having done so. I am always rushed, perhaps mostly because I'm trying to do too much, but, really, it's just my nature to be late. I am dealing with many quirks with pants, socks, buttons and coats and keeping my cool about the irrational nature of them most of the time (see aforementioned comment about yelling).
I am giving my kids secret kisses and whispering "I love you" to them when they're fast asleep just before I go to bed.
I am laughing and smiling. I am sometimes crying, be it because of stress, frustration, exhaustion or just sadness. I am apologizing. I am hugging. I am being cranky. I am being goofy. I am being my kids' mom, not their friend. I am being human. I'm doing the best I can with the collection of responsibilities and goals on my plate. And I am always, always, ALWAYS loving my Leatherkids.
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