I know I'll Miss This Someday, but Right Now....

Our neighborhood's annual block party was last night. It's always a fun day (and night) filled with live music, food, drinks, and good conversation. Well, at least for most people there's good conversation. Me? Not so much.

I was too busy dragging around an extra appendage (that looked an awful lot like my three-year-old daughter) to talk to anyone at length. I began a few conversations, but before long, my demanding, wants-me-all-to-herself little girl would start tugging on my hand, trying to pull me away. It was very distracting. And annoying.

I spent a good part of the day frustrated with her. I did understand that she was freaked out by all the people around and wanted me close by for security, but that didn't make her any less of a buzz-kill.

My girl during what was pretty much her only social
moment of the whole day (with her brother & a friend)

I was envious of my husband, who kept himself busy drinking beers and chatting with neighbors. Our five-year-old son spent the day happily playing with friends and riding his bike up and down the closed-off street, so my husband was free to drink and be merry. He attempted Daughter Duty a couple of times, but after just a a few minutes, darling girl would want her mama again.

And now that she's getting older, little princess has begun playing me. I'd ask if she needed to use the potty and she'd say yes. Then once back at the house, she'd sit on the pot for ages and ages pretending to try, when really she was just stalling. This happened a couple of times.

"C'mon hon, let's go back to the block party," I'd suggest.

"I no like block parties," she'd announce, as if she's been to so many and they are just so tiresome.

I struggled with her all day, and it put me in a bad mood. I was pissed off with her for ruining my block party. Bedtime was not pretty.

A couple of hours later, I looked in on her. She was facing the door, fast asleep, and as I opened the door wider, the light from the hallway fell upon her, illuminating her sweet and innocent little face. Tears sprung into my eyes as it hit me how stupid I'd been.

My daughter adores me and wants to be with me every second. I'm her best friend. This precious time I have with her will be so, so short-lived. God, I know that, yet last night I was dying to be unencumbered and free from her grabby little hands and whiny little voice. For what? So I could easily and breezily chat with my neighbors and have a few drinks? What the hell was I thinking?

Because I know...in what will feel like a mere instant, poof, it'll be gone. I'll blink and she'll be starting kindergarten, then I'll blink again and she'll be rolling her eyes over something stupid I said.

One morning I'll wake up, and this time will be over. And then I'll be pining to have it back, to have my baby back. My extra appendage. My shadow. My echo.

My best friend.

One of Those Days....

Vacation is over. Camp is over. Swimming lessons--over. But that's okay, because in three short weeks my son will be starting kindergarten and I will miss him terribly. So I'm happy to be spending all day, every day of these next three weeks with my two favorite people. BUT (big but)...that doesn't mean my kids don't drive me insane daily now and then. 

Take today, for example. The day started out so well. My youngest had her last toddler music class, and my son tagged along. Nice. Then a short walk through the woods and a fun splash through a stream to the Chappaqua library (luckily we wore our rain boots!) to watch a series of short films based on kids' books. The mini-movies were cute and we laughed. Then we investigated whether there could possibly be anymore Angelina Ballerina books that we hadn't yet read, and--SCORE!--checked out two new ones.

Things went smoothly when we got back home--the three-year-old was successful with the potty (a sticker for her Potty Chart and three M&Ms, yay!)--and no one complained about lunch. But before long, things slowly began going downhill. 

It's never one big thing that changes the tone of the day, but rather a bunch of tiny, annoying occurrences that, added up, are enough to push a mother over the edge. A toddler who won't nap (but desperately needs to), a kid (or two) begging for just one more cookie, removing the husk from the corn-on-the-cob that's supposed to be for dinner to discover it rotting inside, trying to weed the overgrown mess that passes for the backyard and getting pricked by the weird, thorny vine that is slowly asphyxiating all the nice plants. The small snowflakes build up into a massive, dangerous avalanche.

Then the whining starts. Mostly from the three-year-old, but the five-year-old isn't too old to chime in with the occasional well-timed moan just when I'm about ready to crack. The half-hour before my husband gets home from work consists of me trying to give my son positive reinforcement on the marble run he's just built and read my daughter Dora and the Snow Princess (for the five-millionth time), all while eye-balling the oven to make I'm not burning dinner. 

Then they whine throughout dinner, and I end up not even tasting the food I made, or else I'm up and down so many times that it's cold by the time I get to eat. By this time, not even the bottle glass of wine I'm drinking is helping me chill out. 

I love, love, love my kids more than anything else on this earth, but bedtime cannot come soon enough. The three-year-old whines until the last possible minute but I bite my tongue because I know if I get testy with her right before lights-out, it will only delay things. So I take a deep breath and just get through it.

Then, on the way from my daughter's room to my son's so I can kiss him goodnight, the cat slinks up and makes her "PET ME" noise. It's somewhere between a meow and a purr (it sounds a little like hoochie-coochie Charo rolling her R's), and I can't help but laugh because I thought I was done, I really did, but now here's THE CAT demanding my attention. 

But with the cat, at least I don't have to look or listen or talk or read Dora. I can just sit and enjoy the peace and quiet. Phew.