D said to me tonight, "I think you may have over-extended yourself."
And I may have.
(When he says this and gives me the look it reinforces my feeling that I will likely never go back to work full-time while we have children living in our home. Because that would really over-extend me, and by me, I mean him.)
But what happens is the proverbial shit all hits the fan the same week. Monday night was piano. Tonight was Girl Scouts AND a neighborhood board meeting. Tomorrow night is a troop leader meeting. Some weeks all we have is piano on Monday and the remainder of the days we are left to putz around.
I don't like weeks like this, but that is just the way they happen. And they feel unbearable, but they are over quickly and forgotten about until the next time we have 4 busy nights in a row, at which time we think we are gonna die.
The same applies to the kids. There are occasions when all of them have their panties in twists and are fighting and demanding something of me at the exact same moment, and it feels unbearable, like it has lasted at least a week and will continue for the rest of my life. But then it is over. All three kids are playing quietly, content and not up-in-arms or clingy or calling my name.
And there is much relief and rejoicing.
And I may have.
(When he says this and gives me the look it reinforces my feeling that I will likely never go back to work full-time while we have children living in our home. Because that would really over-extend me, and by me, I mean him.)
But what happens is the proverbial shit all hits the fan the same week. Monday night was piano. Tonight was Girl Scouts AND a neighborhood board meeting. Tomorrow night is a troop leader meeting. Some weeks all we have is piano on Monday and the remainder of the days we are left to putz around.
I don't like weeks like this, but that is just the way they happen. And they feel unbearable, but they are over quickly and forgotten about until the next time we have 4 busy nights in a row, at which time we think we are gonna die.
The same applies to the kids. There are occasions when all of them have their panties in twists and are fighting and demanding something of me at the exact same moment, and it feels unbearable, like it has lasted at least a week and will continue for the rest of my life. But then it is over. All three kids are playing quietly, content and not up-in-arms or clingy or calling my name.
And there is much relief and rejoicing.
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