Thursday, February 4, 2010

Freakin' miracle

Before children, there is no way I'd understand the complexity of my commute tonight. Steve had his calculus class and I was doing a make-up teaching night ("real" night canceled due to snow). So I had to drive all three kids out to campus and meet Steve in the parking lot after his class, who took the same three kids home. Those dual-career/school situations that I never really contemplated pre-children, but wow, they can muck up a night.

The kids, I should note, did NOT have a vote in this. Looking back, maybe I should have gotten a sitter. It's almost an hour drive with traffic (20 minutes without), so it was double for them. But those situations sound much simpler in your mind. How hard could a simple commute with three children *really* be? We've done road trips that have lasted about 100x that length without blinking. Children have no rhyme or reason, clearly.

The low point: Simone screaming bloody murder in the back and not being able to pull over since we were in a traffic jam. Or maybe when they all fought over the same Hello Kitty sippy cup. Or maybe when that huge white semi nearly CRASHED INTO ME on the highway. Or maybe when...goodness, there are so many things from which to choose.

The high point: Jack and Andrew starting to argue about something, and Andrew saying indignantly, "Jackie...why don't you just igNORE me?" Comically ridiculous.

How pathetically un-high the high point is says something about our one-hour sojourn.

I haven't heard yet about how Steve's return trip went. But I'd love to have seen his face when he unloaded them and saw that all three were wearing matching Spiderman costumes. Covered in blueberries, I'm sure. I tried to keep them quiet in the back with gobs of food...but they managed to shriek and argue through the chews.

Our family is ridiculous.

I don't really know what the point of all this is.

Part of me thinks it's important to document the insanity-moments, lest I be One of Those Persons 20 years from now who tells an exhausted, drained mother of little ones: "Those are the BEST years...enjoy every moment!" And you sooooooo many ways, I can see they're fabulous, wondrous moments in time. Believing in Santa, for example? Awesomeness. I really do cherish them. And someday I'll miss the crazy-haired, blueberry-stained Simone in her oversized Spiderman suit.

But it's like telling a first-trimester pregnant woman (mid-puke, perhaps) that you just LOVED being pregnant. Miserable Pregnant Lady feels like saying: "Um...please move along and tell someone else, okay? Yeah yeah, I know it's a freakin' miracle and I'm thrilled to be pregnant and all...but right now, I just want to be alone to puke."

So when I read through my blog in 20 years, I'll be able to say, "Oh yeah. There were times that it SUCKED to be a mom." When being trapped in a car with crazy little creatures made me long to be in a P.O.W. camp...because at least it would be quieter there.

As a reminder of why I do all this:

Jack coming up to me this afternoon, carrying remnants of the pant legs on one of the Spiderman suits. "I cut off part of the legs because the suit was too big for Simone. I didn't want her to be embarrassed or anything."

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