After the peeing-in-your-face incidents, shopping mall toddler tantrums, mentally-crippling bullying in school, high school entrance, cute puppy loves, worrying 24/7 internet invasion in their lives, teens don't cut their moms/dads any slack. Not even when they're fully-grown and completely capable of doing owning their own bank accounts and throwing out their own trash.
A parent's job is just never done.
Accordingly, moms work an average of 98 hours a week and that's why we're always 'Superheroes' who are tired AF all the freaking time. 😂
My boys laugh at me for lasting all of 2 to 3 Youtube videos in bed at night before I automatically clock myself out of this world and into dreamland. Somehow, the tiredness grips me and yanks me headlong into involuntary rest - much like a tired toddler who vehemently insists that he/she is not tired.
The morning started out with us joining son's friends at the ice-skating rink and since none of them seems worried at all about eating (the flurry of high-fives, OMGs, bro!!!!!!!!, let's gooooooooo, and come ooooonnnnnnnnn took over the second they see each other and everything is out the window), I stayed behind with the other son to get the lunch bit of their day sorted out.
I get anxious when they're on the ice. This stemmed from an unpleasant earlier separate incident when my younger one fell and sprained his hand after a comical waltz while losing his balance. It still gives him and I some shivers. And it's not even from the cold.
I know I was hovering and my mantra was "trust him, believe in him, trust him, believe in him, for chrissakes, he's a goddamn 6-footer in those damn skates, he's good, he's fine..." and then I repeat that for a couple of hours. And the truth was, he was fine. His friends were there, he's perfectly FINE.
So, instead of melting into a puddle of panic, I walked off. Shopping for eyeliner did the trick. Highly recommended.
My other son decided to stay on too because his friends Uber-ed their way there to join him so, I ended wandering around the mall, the chauffeur that I was being reduced to.
Traipsing around the mall was not the end of it. There was an Awards Night where they wanted to attend to see the rest of their friends and teachers off. There I was again to get a handle of the dinner aspect of their schedule that failed to capture their attention at all.
That's the thing about being a work-at-home mom: your hours are flexible but it means you'll have to work your schedule around so much you'll be drinking coffee at 2am finishing off stuff that should have been done when the sun was still up.
I sometimes would appreciate it if people realized that there is always a trade-off. Yes, I LOOK free but if I go shopping with you now because you've just broken off with your boyfriend and need a comforting human to be with you, there's a trade-off on my part. This means me staying awake at 3am finishing things off.
By the end of the day, I was done splitting myself in two or three...or four...and was determined to pretend I was a tub of jello.
But you know what? I am thankful that I have hugs and kisses that greet me every single day despite my complaints, grouses, and nagging (i.e. consistent phone calls that came with threats of the end of allowances and rights to future outings with friends if said calls went unanswered).
All in all, it was busy but absolutely fun.
For me, the trade-off of late nights and weekends making up for lost hours are well worth it.
A parent's job is just never done.
Accordingly, moms work an average of 98 hours a week and that's why we're always 'Superheroes' who are tired AF all the freaking time. 😂
My boys laugh at me for lasting all of 2 to 3 Youtube videos in bed at night before I automatically clock myself out of this world and into dreamland. Somehow, the tiredness grips me and yanks me headlong into involuntary rest - much like a tired toddler who vehemently insists that he/she is not tired.
The morning started out with us joining son's friends at the ice-skating rink and since none of them seems worried at all about eating (the flurry of high-fives, OMGs, bro!!!!!!!!, let's gooooooooo, and come ooooonnnnnnnnn took over the second they see each other and everything is out the window), I stayed behind with the other son to get the lunch bit of their day sorted out.
I get anxious when they're on the ice. This stemmed from an unpleasant earlier separate incident when my younger one fell and sprained his hand after a comical waltz while losing his balance. It still gives him and I some shivers. And it's not even from the cold.
I know I was hovering and my mantra was "trust him, believe in him, trust him, believe in him, for chrissakes, he's a goddamn 6-footer in those damn skates, he's good, he's fine..." and then I repeat that for a couple of hours. And the truth was, he was fine. His friends were there, he's perfectly FINE.
So, instead of melting into a puddle of panic, I walked off. Shopping for eyeliner did the trick. Highly recommended.
My other son decided to stay on too because his friends Uber-ed their way there to join him so, I ended wandering around the mall, the chauffeur that I was being reduced to.
Traipsing around the mall was not the end of it. There was an Awards Night where they wanted to attend to see the rest of their friends and teachers off. There I was again to get a handle of the dinner aspect of their schedule that failed to capture their attention at all.
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| Eggs Benedict. No. It didn't come with the name Cumberpatch XD |
That's the thing about being a work-at-home mom: your hours are flexible but it means you'll have to work your schedule around so much you'll be drinking coffee at 2am finishing off stuff that should have been done when the sun was still up.
I sometimes would appreciate it if people realized that there is always a trade-off. Yes, I LOOK free but if I go shopping with you now because you've just broken off with your boyfriend and need a comforting human to be with you, there's a trade-off on my part. This means me staying awake at 3am finishing things off.
By the end of the day, I was done splitting myself in two or three...or four...and was determined to pretend I was a tub of jello.
But you know what? I am thankful that I have hugs and kisses that greet me every single day despite my complaints, grouses, and nagging (i.e. consistent phone calls that came with threats of the end of allowances and rights to future outings with friends if said calls went unanswered).
All in all, it was busy but absolutely fun.
For me, the trade-off of late nights and weekends making up for lost hours are well worth it.
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