school is back in session (!) and i for one am proud that my family and I are still alive to see it. surviving 68 days of summer vacation was a challenge, to say the least.
most days of “vacation” went a little something like this…it’s 8:17 pm bad behavior is in full effect. i have put my boys in the small room they share in our east vancouver apartment. i tell them it’s a time-out, but in reality, i am trying to figure out what to do next so i won’t freak out and do something that will cause me to appear on the news tonight. my husband is, of course, at work, where he animates video games, but more importantly, gets to enjoy conversing with adults 60 hours a week. because i am a stay-at-home mom, i bask in the bevy of luxuries associated with raising 2 boys, who this month will turn 6 and 8 years of age.
the older one has ADHD. He wakes up vibrating and shouts as if he is sam kinison on fire. just now he put a pushpin on the end of a nerf gun “bullet” (sharp side out) and was threatening to shoot his little brother with it. his medication has worn off and when that happens he gets evil ideas. an added bonus: the medication also prevents him from going to sleep at a normal hour so his little brother and i get to savor the joys of ADHD.
the little one is no angel either. his existence appears to be a series of minor accidents and injuries, which he responds to with off-broadway melodramatics. i must go through a carton of band-aids a week, which i hold at the ready in my purse. the only other thing i go through as quickly is wine. his voice can reach a unique octave that penetrates my ear canal and goes straight to my brain’s panic center. this is why i have begun to wear earplugs at home.
i am a 44 year old peri-menopausal woman who, like many of my peers, had kids in my late thirties. it seemed like a good idea at the time. in hindsight however, i should have predicted the collision of my beligerent hormones and the “rambunctious” energy of 2 boys under 8. i have no patience anymore, no sense of humor, no joie de vivre. some amateurs call it “motherhood burn-out”. now that i have lived through 8 long summers with my boy(s), i can honestly say that i don’t think it is natural or healthy for an adult to spend this much time with children. i’ve already booked multiple summer camps for summer 2012!
at this juncture in my life, i actually daydream about having a job. a job outside this house. any job. any job with lots and lots of hours. and grown-ups. and no kids! a job that i would be paid for and thanked for and, maybe even… respected for. i would get a lunch break where i could actually sit alone in silence and eat sitting at a table- not standing over the sink (!). perhaps even a job which would pay me to take a vacation! (vacation defined as a leisurely adult trip without kids to take care of).
i am now checking out the job listings on craig’s list and imagining what my updated resume would look like now after taking 8 years off from the work force…
Objective: to get the fuck out of my house and talk to grown ups!
- Middle-aged, depressed, Mom seeks missing identity (and a quiet position in serene adult office).
- Has state of the art computer skills (from 2003).
- Outspoken.
- Dynamic (mood swings).
- BA Degree in Communications (from before you were born).
- Needs 4 pm nap and chocolate break.
- Was smart and hip at one time.
- Concise
- No cleaning, cooking, nursing, teaching or wiping anyone’s ass.
- Desired Hours: 7 am until just after the kid’s bedtime.
did i mention that i am overjoyed that school is back in session…?
as an american, it is our time-honored tradition to cherish the meds that make life more tolerable and sparkly. over the years i have developed a respect for the purveyors of mommy’s little helpers: the pharmacist. they are sterile, they are polite, they are educated drug dealers and they have the good stuff.
