We are in the full swing of summer over here. As predicted, I think I over-committed to activities for Eloise, who has finished up two weeks of Zumba camp (a 45-minute per morning activity which was adorable but I'm still not sure if it was worth the extra effort of getting out the house by 8:30am) and has just wrapped up her first of four weeks of swim lessons. Our mornings go as such:
6:45: Eloise is up, and usually gets herself in her bathing suit and makes her way downstairs. Nick leaves for work.
7:30: Amelia is up. Eloise and I go upstairs and the girls play while I get myself and Amelia ready for the day.
7:45/8: Back downstairs for breakfast/me to start the coffee-reheating-and-then-getting-distracted-and-forgetting-about-it process, which usually happens no fewer than 37 times.
8:30: The girls play outside and/or watch a show. I clean up breakfast, pack lunches, and do any necessary dinner prep. (Sidenote: Does any other mom feel like summertime means being chained to your kitchen? As soon as one meal ends I feel like the next one begins!)
9:00: Pack the pool bag, sunscreen the girls, give them a snack. They continue to play outside.
9:45: Leave for the pool.
10:15-10:45: Swim lessons.
11:00: Pool opens. Swim, eat lunch, take showers.
1:00/1:30: Leave the pool.
2:00: Girls down for naps.
4/5:00: Girls up from naps. More playing outside while I cook dinner.
7:00: More playing, dinner cleanup, sometimes a family walk.
8/8:30: Girls down for bed.
8:30/9:00: PLOP! Ask Nick to put on a show, fall asleep on the couch, ask him what the show was about.
9:30/10: Make my way upstairs, "read" (check Instagram), then really read for about 32 seconds, fall asleep. Repeat.
Another mom and I were semi-commiserating at swim lessons today about how beat we are. Like, a physical tiredness akin to first trimester pregnancy. And then we proceeded to talk about how silly it is to complain about something great like summer because, come on! If I had a job, I would literally kill to spend my days like I do now. I would have the biggest FOMO, and probably resentment, that someone else was spending their days putting sunscreen on my kids and taking them to the pool while I bankrolled it all. (PS the concept of me bankrolling anything is comical. Maybe one day?)
The newborn days of feeling like the days were SO long and having no idea how to fill them seem so long ago. My head is spinning all the time with details and needs and preparations for the next step. And I am grateful for it all.
I GET to do this. This is the hardest, most important work I've ever done. I become more and more convinced of it as my kids get older. I only semi-knew and believed it when they were younger, because anyone can hold a newborn, right? But only I can discipline that toddler with consistency because I care what she grows up to be like. Only I can give the abundance of snuggles to the snuggler. Only I can be finely attuned to the mood and needs of each child, and adjust the day if needed.
I am uniquely suited to mother my children, and I feel humbled by it every day. I mess it all up EVERY DAY. I go to bed every night thinking of how the day went and what I want to do differently the next day. And lately, because the behavior and issues are getting harder to sort out as they get older, I pray for them all the time, because I need all the help I can get.
I feel so very tired, and so very happy that this is my job.