It's That Time Of Year...

For back to school!

I'm doing my happy dance! Two of the kids started school today. The oldest moves back on Sunday.

It's funny. The last half of the summer I spent looking forward to these days. Ahhhh! My peace and quiet is back!

I get to start back to my (extremely) part-time job, which I love, soon!

Maybe I can get back to work on my second book.

I can finally get the house clean!

Now, I'm bored.

All of those things no longer appeal to me.

I actually miss the eighty-five bazillion interruptions that I complain about.

The kids are getting older and it makes me realize that soon, it will always be quiet.

Soon, the house will not be a wreck because there will be no children home to mess it up.

Soon, I'll be pining for phone calls or texts.

Soon, I'll be free.

I've never been so depressed to think about freedom.

~Kim

How To Tell Your Kid Is...

...competitive.

It's really easy.

My oldest son loves sports of all kinds.

He's very dramatic when he watches "his teams" play. It's comical and I love spending time with him in those moments, even though I have to say things like, "don't yell so loud! It's eleven o'clock and the neighbors are sleeping!", or "Your sister is in bed, you're shaking the whole house jumping around like a lunatic."

The other day I was sitting on the porch and he comes running outside excitedly.

OS (Oldest Son): "I'm watching the USA in fencing!"
Me: Cool. (clearly not sharing in his enthusiasm)
OS: They're winning 2-0!
Me: Awesome.
OS: runs back in the house
Me: (to my mom on the phone) OS is watching fencing.
Mom: Oh I should by him and MS swords!
Me: You've GOT to be kidding me! pause Oh my God, Mom! He's cheering like he's watching a basketball game! He's yelling directions at the TV and everything! (mind you I'm still sitting on the porch and he's in the back of the house)
Mom: hysterical laughter
OS: (from in the house) Yeah boy! Get him! YES! YES! YES! (comes flying out the door) THEY WON! USA WON! Now I'm going to watch water polo.
Me: blank stare

Being the parent of a competitive athlete is always entertaining.

~Kim

School Is Drawing Near...

...and I'm frantically trying to keep up!

Between schedules, move-in dates, and school supplies, I might be a little crazy!

Trying to get the kids back on some sort of a sleeping schedule before the first day of school is always challenging. The older two think they can just snap right into it, but Mom knows better. The little one thinks she gets enough sleep staying up until eleven o'clock and getting up at 8:30 in the morning. Again, I know better.

Last night went something like this:

Me: If you don't get to bed before one, I'm changing the password on the WiFi.

MC (Middle Child): Oh c'mon, Mom! It's not a big deal!

Me: I'm serious.

MC: *snickers* No you're not.

Me: Dammit, MC, why do you have to test me. Now you're going to be mad.

MC: Doubt it.

Me: pulls plug on router

MC: *5 minutes later* HEY! What happened to the WiFi?! I was having the game of my life with my clan leader. I'm probably going to get kicked out of the clan now. Thanks a lot, Mom.

Me: walks upstairs with the cord to the router I told you you were going to be pissed. Now go to bed.

Ahhhh parenting at its finest!

~Kim

Functioning at a High Level...

...is overrated.

Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

School is coming up oh-so-quickly. I've been counting the days, since baseball ended that is. The kids have been bored and I've been at a physical standstill.

I berate myself daily about how little I've gotten done.

Truth be told, I have zero motivation. None. Zip. Zilch.

I thought it would return after The Patriarch went back out of town. Knowing I didn't have the advantage of waiting for him to do it should have kicked me into high gear. Instead, it has put me in complete Park mode.

I do the absolute minimum that I'll let myself get away with. Which, some days, is no more than getting out of bed and making sure the kids aren't killing each other.

This often incurs lectures from my mom about how I need to, "get off my ass," to quote her directly.

What my mom, and countless other people, haven't come to understand is that no matter how much I want to "get off my ass," sometimes I just cannot.

I go to bed thinking about all the things that I want to accomplish the next day because I managed so little that particular day. I have lists of things that should be done. In my defense, if it's pressing and needs to get done I do it, but if it can wait, it does.

I put on a pretty good front for my acquaintances, most wouldn't guess that behind closed doors I suffer from debilitating depression. Hell, some of my close friends were shocked when they figured it out.

I'm not depressed in a way that makes me suicidal. I have too much to live for. Those three pains in my ass, The Patriarch, and my mom are the first five things that come to mind. Although, I do wonder at times if they wouldn't be better off without this lump that can go from quietly reading to ready to snap at break-neck speed. That's always as far as it goes.

I sit in front of my computer every day with the intention to work on my next book. Every. Single. Day. Then the voice in my head starts. It questions why I even bother, I'll never be good, I'll never be a best seller. It tells me all the negativity surrounding everything I do. Sometimes, I reach in the back of my brain and kick his ass, other days, he wins. I don't write.

Everything that I enjoy doing has its own voice of doom. Even things that I don't enjoy doing but are an evil necessary have one.

When it's time to work, "Don't take that job, you're not a real teacher anyhow."

When it's time to play, "They only hang out with you because they feel bad for you."

When it's time to clean, "Why bother, it won't ever be good enough."

When there's time for sex, "Seriously, you want to get naked? Have you seen yourself?"

Every. Damn. Thing.

And sometimes I fight it off and I win, but most of the time, I just sit there. Sit there and do nothing until the shame spiral leads me deep into the catacombs where it takes days or weeks to even attempt to function again.

So, if you see me out, know that day I kicked that little bastard's ass. If I don't answer my phone, know I'm battling or recouping. If you see a blog post after some time of silence, I won the skirmish, but not the battle. It's that complicated.

~Kim

It's Funny How Things...

Come out when you least expect it.

The other day, the middle one and I were out running errands.

He, being a typical smart assed teenager, was giving me crap about something I had said that he just HAD to argue with (with no valid argument I might add). I can't even remember what started the goofy exchange, but here's how it played out:

Me: Well, I'm left-handed.

SaT (Smart Ass Teen): Why?

Me: Because I was born that way.

SaT: Why weren't you born right handed?

Me: I didn't have a choice. (getting annoyed with his crappy retorts)

SaT: Yes you did. You could have been born right handed if you wanted to be.

Me: Shut up, SaT.

SaT: Is either Grandma or Grandpa left handed?

Me: Nope, but it doesn't matter.

SaT: Why?

Me: Because I was adopted, remember?

SaT: Wait. (long pause) WHAT?!

Me: You knew I was adopted!

SaT: NO! This is the first time I'm hearing this, MOM!

Me: Well, shit. Now you know.

This was followed by a lot of questions and a long conversation.

I'm such a fine parent...

~Kim

You Know, It's Okay...

To be unhappy.

Once again, hear me out.

Yes, there are people out there who have it worse than you do, but what's happening to you is happening to YOU! You're entitled to feel however you want to feel about the situation.

Yes, there are altruistic people out there doing the unthinkable. You should empathize with them, but that doesn't change the weight of your own feelings.

If your shoelace broke and you had to walk five blocks home before you could change shoes, feel annoyed, angry, or upset.

When you think, "There are people out there who don't even have shoes and here I am complaining that I had to walk five measly blocks home," you're right. There are people who have it worse than you do, BUT your life and your feelings are still valid. You can still be pissed off.

It's okay.

If you're so inclined, do something for someone without shoes.

If you're hungry and only have money for peanut butter and jelly, it's okay to be pissed.

Yes, there are people all over the world that go hungry. Feel empathy for them. Do something to help feed them, but you can still be mad that you don't have the money for something more.

Feelings of dissatisfaction with things that happen in your life aren't any less valid because you don't suffer as much as someone else.

As long as you can feel empathy.

Also, as long as you don't live there. Be annoyed, angry, sad, disheartened, happy, proud...be all of it or any of it...It's happening to you. You can feel any thing you want to feel. Just don't set up camp there.

Do something nice, when you can, for people who ARE less fortunate than you, but don't feel like it should invalidate your feelings.

~Kim

When You Realize...

You really love the man that you married, it's both amazing and heart wrenching.

The last two days are so different from the seven years before it.

No, really...Hear me out.

In nine months time, I've adjust to having the other half of me home. I didn't realize how much I had adjusted to him being around.

Although he worked third shift for the last part of his stint at home, he was still there. There were still reasons to say, "Shhhh! Dad's sleeping!" or "Yes you can use the upstairs bathroom, but be quiet." or "Please tell your friends not to knock on the door 300 times because the dog barking will wake up your dad!"

The guilt of not cleaning up during the day and watching him do it at night is gone. The threat of "I'm going to tell your father" is also gone. The complaining that every time I go to bed, I have to remake it because he can't throw a blanket across when he gets up is gone, as well.

People always say, "it's the little things," and it is.

It's the arguing over who forgot to put dinner leftovers in the refrigerator, or who ate the last "grown-up" cookie. It's sitting on the couch laughing about the other's choice of Netflix program. Folding laundry and complaining about the way the other is folding the shirts.

Now, there's none of that except on rotation and that's different.

I miss him.

~Kim