I Quit!

Before I was a mom, I was sure that I was NOT going to have over-scheduled kids. While I wanted them to do things they enjoyed, I was not going to spend my life running them all over the place, to the detriment of my own sanity. Not to mention, kids need down time. They need time to just hang out with their families. Family time is incredibly important, in that it teaches valuable life skills, like how to sneak into your sister's room and steal her fairies without being caught, or how to pinch your brother and make your mom believe that he was the one who attacked you, while you were innocently sitting there, minding your own business. Having time together as family teaches kids how to get along with people they often dislike, but still have to live with. And in some cases, family time teaches some really specific skills, like the importance of a good left hook.

Several years ago, though, something happened that changed my line of thinking about having over-scheduled kids. I had kids.

Like so many other things where parenting is concerned, the reality was a little different than what I had anticipated. This year, N really wanted to do a gymnastics class. It was just for a couple months, but I wasn't sure she'd like it, so I didn't want her to quit dance, which she really likes. (There was also the fact that her incredibly coordinated mother could never do so much as a cartwheel, so anything that was likely to help even a little in the coordination arena was probably not a bad idea, from my stand point). Of course, N was also in Girl Scouts, but that was only once a month. And the chorus thing she wanted to do was only once a week for a few months, so it would be fine. While she also had CCD,  that was just on Sunday mornings, when we should all be going to Church anyway. N was quite content with this schedule. I, however, was in a near constant state of stress, because we almost always had to be somewhere. I also discovered a few things:

Nothing is really just once a month.
Nothing is really just an hour a week.
Even if something is just an hour a week, an hour a week can feel like a lot when you have so many other hours of the week already accounted for.
We parents sometimes lose our minds when it comes to our kids and their activities.

After those few months, only dance and Girl Scouts remained. And yet, the reality is, I still often feel on the verge of a panic attack. Because dance and Girl Scouts sometimes fall back-to-back on the same day. Because its "recital time" when missing dance is highly frowned upon. Because "cookie sales" in Girl Scouts can be like having a part time job. Because I have two younger, very active boys who come with us pretty much everywhere, and yet can't be left to their own devices anywhere. Because about a year-and-a-half ago, when I had a newborn and was, in retrospect, in some hormonal haze, I said being a Girl Scout co-leader sounded like a great idea, and sure I could make it to all of those monthly meetings. (A bit of advice: if you have given birth within the past six years months, do not volunteer for anything. You are operating from a delusional, hormonal state in which you believe you are Superwoman, because after all, you not only grew a baby and gave birth, but are quite possibly feeding said baby from your very own body, all on little to no sleep. In reality, you are not at all equipped to make the decision to lead something like a Girl Scout Troop. In fact, until you are sleeping through the night again, you should probably refrain from leading anything, other than maybe rounds of Row, Row, Row, Your Boat. Remember-- the baby ate your brain cells during pregnancy. Just say no. By the way, I can only say this because I am a woman. If you are a man, do not even think about saying any of this to a woman. Don't say I didn't warn you).

I initially thought that maybe feeling overwhelmed was just an "adjustment issue", since I was new to having a child in school who was involved with activities. Surely when she got a little older I would have a handle on this, and not feel so stressed out. But then I was talking to a friend who has four older kids in school, and she happened to mention that incredibly stressed out feeling that she feels pretty much anytime she has to take anyone anywhere--which, in her case, is, well, always. With four kids in several different activities, and several volunteer commitments of her own, she is always rushing to get somewhere. And yet, to her, the idea that she was going to feel incredibly stressed out for a good part of every day was just a part of life.

I was recently talking to another friend, who finally went to the doctor after feeling that something just wasn't quite right. She just felt "off" and was concerned that something was seriously wrong. Like most of us, she tries to squeeze too much into her days. She works full-time and spends evenings in a whirlwind of homework and activities, before doing it all again the next day. Her diagnosis? Fortunately, nothing more than dehydration. Apparently five cups of coffee to one cup of water is not an acceptable daily ratio. Huh. Who knew? Of course she knows she needs to drink more water, but it's just one.more.thing. And who doesn't need several cups of coffee? But really, now we're not even taking time to drink water? We make sure our kids drink water. We make sure our dogs have water. We even make sure our plants have water. But we, somehow, don't manage to drink enough water.

Knowing I am not alone in this really doesn't make me feel any better. That just means that women running themselves into the ground--to a large extent for the sake of their kids' activities--has become so acceptable that it's now considered the norm. And of course, we're not just driving our kids around. We're also checking our messages, and making phone calls, and talking about homework, and planning what we're going to make for dinner. We are the queens of multi-tasking, and then beat ourselves up when we don't do it all perfectly.

I am thinking about all of this when we get home last night, as I try to get over my guilt that we ditched dance because there was no way we were going to make it anywhere close to on time after the Girl Scout meeting ran late. I am feeding NBO as I wait for the notary who's doing our refinance to show up. I wash the dishes, and help with homework, and give baths--OK fine-I gave one bath, to one child. The other two didn't get one. I justify this by telling myself that their faces get washed five times a day. So do their rear ends. I find a minute to go the bathroom, where I also change the bandage on my knee from when I so gracefully fell in the school parking lot the day before--while I was walking to the car, thinking of what I needed at the store, making sure the kids were all with me, and not paying attention to the huge pot hole I ultimately tripped into.

As I am doing this, O suddenly bursts into the bathroom with a book, and requests that I read it to him. I start to comply, and then realize that reading to my kids while I am, uh, in the bathroom and simultaneously changing a bandage would be taking multi-tasking to a new low. Besides, If I'm going to read in the bathroom, its not going to be Thomas the Train. Its going to be a trashy romance novel Better Homes and Gardens.

The refinance lady arrives.  I get her a glass of water. I break up a fight in the living room. We sign some forms. I break up another fight. I think the refinance lady must be wondering why our kids are so aggressive. Sign some more forms. Get someone a snack. Break up another fight. Listen to the refinance lady talk about the family she saw last night, and realize that tomorrow, she'll be telling people about these aggressive kids she saw tonight. I sign something else. I say good-bye to the refinance lady. I tuck the kids in. I check my work schedule for tomorrow. I check Jimmy's work email. I think about a glass of wine, and decide I'm too tired. I realize that if water was wine, my friend and I would both be better about drinking as much of it as we should.

This type of multi-tasking, I realize, is largely unavoidable. And this kind, I really don't mind all that much. As for the rest? Well, I've made a decision. I quit. I'm not sure what I am quitting, exactly, but I am quitting...well, something. I have two kids who aren't even really involved in activities yet. At this rate, I'll lose what's left of my mind way sooner than previously anticipated. Besides, when they all sit around the Thanksgiving table twenty years from now, I want their childhood stories to begin with something besides, "Hey, remember that time in the car, on the way to soccer practice?"

I hope NBO will all find things they like to do, and I will encourage them in that, to some extent. I'm trying to keep in mind, though, that there are a few things they need more than dance classes or soccer; more than piano lessons or Girl Scouts.

They need time with their family. They need time to just be kids. And they need a sane mommy.

Boxing gloves probably wouldn't be a bad idea, either.