Long showers. Uninterrupted sleep. Tranquil silence.
I took those for granted before having children. They also are the luxuries I experience while traveling. So, why am I longing for short showers, an elbow in my side, squeals of delight? Because it’s normal. Whenever I leave, I love the showers, sleep, and silence at first, and then I start missing a child knocking on the bathroom door just because, another climbing in the bed in the middle of the night, and the nonstop chatter of both of them. I am counting the days and will be home soon.
Take off your glasses, Daddy, so you can see.
Nadia telling her father how he could get a better view.
Saying good-bye to the heat has not been a problem for me. Good-bye, 90-degree days. Good-bye, sweating. Good-bye, air conditioner. It is different for Simone and Nadia. They don’t want to say good-bye to the playground, their bicycles, and the warm river waters. If summer is made for kids, fall is made for families. I look forward to dressing them in Halloween costumes, preparing the meal for Thanksgiving, and opening presents Christmas morning. I, too, am sorry to see summer go because I see how much Simone and Nadia enjoy it. I also know what good times await us. Bye, summer.
I’m traveling this week and filing this post from the airport. (Don’t you love free wi-fi?)
I have turned over the reigns to Ken and Grandma. Ken has taken a few days off, and Grandma will fill in where needed.
Long ago, I decided I would be a working mother. Ken and I also decided I would slow down after we had children. I did for a while. You can’t stop, though, or you’ll lose your place. I didn’t fully understand the consequences of my decision before Simone and Nadia were born. I didn’t know I was signing up for two full-time jobs. It means I leave for work every few months. I try to keep trips short and avoid layovers. It also means we lean on family. I am not afraid to ask for what we need and line up help months in advance. I’m not sure the girls fully understand. I always promise to come back and that seems fine for now. I give big kisses, call every night, and return with something small in hand. I often find those trinkets tossed in a corner in their room, a reminder that the real gift for them is spending time with me.
I’m feverishly preparing for the White Glove Test.
Ah, the grandmother. My grandmothers were wonderful. They would come to town, keep me out of trouble, and ply me with all the toys and candy I wanted . Simone and Nadia’s grandmother is keeping up the tradition. When she arrives, her car will be loaded with food, cookies, clothes, toys and books. It’s the time of the year when all rules are cast aside. It’s only for a few days, and the girls will get the loving memories they deserve. If you’ll excuse me, though, I’ve got all kinds of surfaces to scrub.
Potty training had been going well and then we had a setback.
It comes with the territory. Sometimes life really is one step forward, two steps back. We pressed on. At the same time, we noticed we simply didn’t have enough undies. You have to have those things everywhere in case of accidents, including a set for preschool. For a while, it seemed every other day I was back at the local discount store purchasing more. Grandma heard about our plight and supplemented our stash.
We figured our Yorkshire terrier, Ringo, was a real life Swiper. He likes to cart off socks, small stuffed toys, and anything else that’s not too big. He doesn’t do anything with his stash. He just takes it under the bed and leaves it there. That theory made sense. We’ve found all kinds of things under the bed. This time, though, we couldn’t find any evidence he was taking undies.
This week, still bothered by this mystery, I checked Nadia’s cubbyhole at preschool. Surely, we had left some undies at school. There were none. I asked the afternoon teachers where undies are kept. They told me the cubbyhole. That’s when I told them that Nadia’s undies seem to be disappearing. That’s when they told me if she has a certain accident while at preschool, the teachers throw them away. What? These aren’t diapers. They aren’t Pull-Ups. They are undies. Surely, they were kidding. Nope. They toss them.
If this certain accident happens at home, we simply toss everything into the washer. Now, I can understand if this presents some kind of biohazard or something for the preschool, but there must be another alternative.
I’m getting too heavy.
Simone’s way of telling Daddy to put her down so that she could take in the pre-game football hoopla.
