Some thoughts of Saturday

The fevers are gone (the bickering is back). (And, No, Mom, it wasn’t swine flu.)
Like many summer days, we don’t have much planned today. Last Saturday Sarah—just a week into her new full-time work schedule—called to ask if we could get together. I should have dropped everything, gathered up the kids, and met her halfway, 30 minutes down the road. A playground for the kids. A bench for us. Lots of juice boxes and Goldfish crackers.
But I didn’t. I hadn’t washed my face or brushed my teeth yet. I was really hoping for a shower. The kids weren’t anywhere near ready to leave the house. I would need an hour, minimum, just to get us ferried into the car with all three clothed along with the requisite sunscreen, bug spray, drinks, snacks and diaper bag in tow. I was overwhelmed with the minutiae of parenting three. Consumed by the kids’ needs, the house upkeep, the general constant mayhem of getting through the day.
But that’s just it. I spend so much time getting through the day that it’s difficult to take the opportunity to get out of it when it comes. Last Saturday I also was preparing for dinner with friends and didn’t think I could get everything done if I took the morning to spend with Sarah and her kids. But I should have done it. Summer is so short. And no matter the day, I never meet my own expectations. I never do enough laundry. I never get to the tasks besides the general maintenance (my messy desk, for instance). And so with each day I start with the same long list. And each night I barely get the dishes rinsed before thinking that tomorrow is the day I’ll try a new cupcake recipe for mom’s wedding, figure out a place to set up the crib so Em can finally be moved out of the pack ‘n’ play, put up the last set of curtains, or move the dresser out of the dining room.
I’m wishing that Sarah had called this morning, because I might have said yes. I don’t have any plans this afternoon like I did last week, so I might have been able to let go a little. Sarah is so good at just living in the moment. And I have been trying, really trying to be more like her. In this way. In the summertime in particular. When there are no schedules and the weather is nice and the rules can be bent without tragic repercussions.
There will always be a fussy baby whose needs I can’t immediately determine. A snack needed. An empty juice cup. LAUNDRY. DISHES. A full diaper pail. Or any number of other diversions. But what I want to be able to do is to be better at recognizing the welcome diversions. The ones that are different. Especially the ones that mean Sarah and I can communicate IN PERSON, instead of on the phone, over e-mail and via instant messaging (sometimes all at the same time).
Instead, it’s Saturday afternoon. The kids and I have already struggled with ineffective time-outs (i.e., temper tantrums in the backyard loud enough for the neighbors to think I am physically harming my own child); embarked on an unsuccessful trip to the farmer’s market in town; suffered through not enough (kid friendly) food in the house (no way am I taking all three to the supermarket today); me, trying to edit a very long and very tedious document for work during the down moments of mommyhood (the what?); trying to live in an incredibly messy house because mommy has her blue pen in her hand instead of a dishrag; and generally just being on top of each other. We could use an outing, but I’m just not up for it. I’m tired. I don’t want the struggle. But if Sarah called, right now, I would meet her. I would do it. I would drive down there. I learned my lesson. Take the good when it comes calling; it doesn’t happen often enough. Or maybe it does, and I’m just too busy parenting three to notice.

Tagged as: chaos