Dirty Little Secrets

As always, things have been busy, busy around here. The kids just wrapped up the extra-long soccer season. They had a really great coach this year and had a lot of fun, and I’m sorry to see it end. But Jake starts baseball on Monday, and that will also be a fun adventure (I hope). I love baseball, and I hope he loves it too. Ideally, I’d like them to find a sport that they really enjoy and are good at, and then we’ll just stick with that until for a few years. Brynn’s got her ballet, but I don’t think soccer is Jacob’s forte.


Tom is in the field again, so it’s just me and the kids right now. For the most part it’s business as usual, but by the end of the day I’m often a bit more stressed than normal and bedtime is a crabbier event than I would like. Wyatt is slowly weaning and is sleeping in his little bed in the closet (that probably sounds bad… it’s the master bedroom closet and it’s huge. We had Norah in there for a long time.) Wyatt does seem a little lost without his boobie friend sometimes, but he still requires a lot of snuggle time with me and usually doesn’t like to let me too far out of his sight. I think that is an arrangement we can both live with for now. I still feel like my baby needs me, but there is no biting. Wyatt is back to being irresistibly cute!

I hired a lawn service for the summer. I feel like it’s a lot of money ($40/service, every other week), and it pains me. However, for the last four summers, getting Tom to mow the lawn has been like pulling teeth. He never ever wants to do it. When we lived in El Paso, we had only a tiny back yard (the front yard was Xeriscaped) and when it wasn’t 110 degrees and I wasn’t super pregnant I would occasionally get fed up and mow it myself. Also, it was the desert and the grass needed to be mowed like three times a summer. But last summer, in a house with a decent sized front and back yard that need to be mowed much more frequently… well, I’m not going to do it either. Our back yard is on a hill. So anyway, I will pay for the very nice gentlemen to come and mow, weedwhack, and edge my yard. I must say, it looks really nice out there. And let’s face it—it’s nice having something done without having to think about it. “Send me the bill” is becoming my favorite phrase. I should, however, think about finding some regular employment for myself if I choose to continue down this road.

Speaking of which—I have some guilty confessions to make. Well, they’re not actually bad things, but as a mom they make me feel bad. You’ll see.

I haven’t done any more editing work since my busy week in February. That’s worked out ok, since soccer season was kind of crazy. Of course, I say to myself, “I might not have had time to do good work”, but inside I know I would have made the time without question. I really, really liked the work. I wish I could do that work all the time. I am kind of burned out on the whole “stay-at-home mom” gig, if I might be honest here. It’s been five years since I had a “real” job. Now, that was a job I hated, as were most of the jobs before that. I didn’t give up a career to be a housewife, just a job. When Jacob was a baby, Tom and I worked brutal opposite schedules so that we wouldn’t have to send him to daycare. I couldn’t bear the idea of sending my baby off like that (also, we were just way too poor to even afford it). And even now, when I think of having to ship Wyatt off, I cringe inside and wouldn’t dream of it. But the girls, and Jacob… they’re old enough.

Here we go… I’m tired of entertaining toddlers and preschoolers. I’m tired of changing diapers. I’m tired of spills, messes, and everything being destroyed. I’m tired of feeling guilty because I don’t bring my kids to the park or to playgroups, but I loathe the thought of doing those things because I am not a fan of other moms and I really dislike small children. I’m tired of feeling like my brain is in hibernation because I don’t have time to think about the things l love, such as history and literature. I am super tired of bringing a small flock of children with me everywhere I go. I don’t like not contributing to the family finances. I wish I could hand my kids over to a nanny (slash housekeeper) and work all day. I had a taste of an actual career that I could love doing, and I think it pushed me over the edge. I’m tired of people telling me to enjoy this time because it goes too fast. Of course it does, and I realize my kids will only be little for a short time. However, as it turns out, little kids are not my favorite thing in the world. Now that Jacob is old enough to ask questions, understand answers, and do things for himself, I am excited to see the other three bloom in the same way—to see what kind of people they will turn into. (Ok, maybe not my little Wyatt, not just yet). I love relating funny stories about the crazy things that happen in my life… but at the same time, those are the most exciting things that happen to me. “Things that spill”, “Crazy people at the grocery store”, “Kids doing silly things”, “What I watch on Netflix”… five years of this very simple, almost banal existence, has really kind of left me feeling a little useless. Some of my peers are really doing some interesting things. We’re six (seven? Eesh) years out of college now, and people are done with med school and law school, moving on from those terrible starter jobs to things that they really want to do. Many of my friends who are becoming moms for the first time are leaving real careers to do it, and will have something to go back to (whether after maternity leave or a few years off). And here I am… not doing anything interesting at all. Yes, I am aware I need to get out of the house more! The problem is, in my current line of work, it involves bringing kids to do mom/kid related things. Actually, I’ve considered volunteering at the animal shelter or something on the weekends… but I just don’t have the time to spare when the kids are doing sports and my husband is working his 50-60 hour weeks (or gone altogether). Not to mention that if I did have that extra time, I might spend it on my own animals, who really need to be walked more (Dexter is becoming very naughty indeed).

I feel like I’ve just descended into pure complaining, so I’ll break here until have something nice to say. But it feels good to get this off my chest. I don’t know if anyone even reads this blog any more… I used to have a decent following when it was on Myspace, but I have no idea if it’s still being read. I don’t care, I write for myself anyway, right? It’s the act of hitting the “publish” button that sometimes gives me the satisfaction.