Routines

For years, I've been rushing out of the house by 7:20 am, dropping unfed (and sometimes undressed) kids at a sitter, going off to my day job, and coming home around five. Dinner was usually by 6, and sometimes we had homework done before bed. Free lunch at school saved my ass many times...ok, almost every time. The baby sitter saved it a few too, with last minute homework scrambles, forgotten snack replacements & a few "I'm gonna be late" days too many. It worked. Not well, but it was our routine.

Now, I have a new routine.

Up at 6:30 am.
Make coffee, throw together 3 lunches, feed puppy, kiss T goodbye, perhaps claim the bathroom as mine for 34.9 seconds.
Leave at 7:05 am.
Drop off a child at school, be home by 7:35 am so another child can leave for school.
Make 2 more lunches, finish up any 1st or 2nd grade homework that got ignored missed the night before, corral two boys & convince them getting dressed is good for their health. Double check that i didn't forget to give them breakfast. Prep a dinner, let puppy out at least three times, get dressed, perhaps take another 34.9 seconds to throw some makeup on my face. Throw in, switch around, or fold a load of laundry. (did you *really* think I'd not mention laundry?) Hair brushing has never been optional. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that... sometimes, now it is.
Boys on the bus at 8:45. Hopefully, I have remembered to give them both snacks AND lunches.
Puppy-proof the kitchen. Earrings in. Shoes on. Baby Puppy Gate up. Check pockets & hands. Keys? Coffee? Purse?
8:55 am. Out the door to work.
9:15 am - 5:30 pm. Work.
6:00 pm. Home. Kiss T, pet puppy, feed puppy, finish making dinner (unless T has gotten home first & already done so), serve dinner. Eat. Fold laundry (maybe). Decompress with T. Attempt to catch up boys' homework. Maybe read a story, give a bath, trim some nails, or other mom-ish stuff. Play with puppy. Some days there's taxi service thrown in, or errands, or grocery shopping, or last minute scrambles for projects, pet supplies, beer, etc. Get boys ready for bed. Secretly wish I was going to bed too.
8:00 pm. Boys in bed. Chit-chat with girls. More decompressing with T. Sometimes more taxi service. Shower at some point before midnight. Let puppy out..again. Think about all the things I wanted to do today, but didn't. Fall into bed & dream about smashing my alarm clock into millions of teeny tiny pieces with a 40 lb sledge hammer.

And here's the kicker.

Every single day, I feel less accomplished, less organized, less....DONE. Every. Single. Stinkin'. Day.

I thought for sure with 2 extra hours every morning, I'd have time to cook, time to enjoy sons & mommy time, time to clean. I'd have time to be a better mom, a better significant other, a better me. Time to actually help with homework. Time to take pictures. Time to calibrate a kidney-friendly canine diet. Time to do bills, cut coupons, scour the web for new recipes. Time to blog, at home. Time to paint my nails. Time to... clean my room gasp!. I don't. And I don't get it... perhaps the puppy ate my super-mom cape. Perhaps whichever one of my brain cells that controls "organization of life as a mom" is fried. I really don't want to be super-mom. It's just that...well, I had all these visions of all these things I'd be able to cram into that 2 hours a day, and all these ideas of all these things I'd be able to do in the evenings. Haha! I sure laugh at me & my ideas... sigh.

How do I start feeling less like I'm chasing my tail, and more like I'm chasing the dream? And, for the love of all things good & evil alike....how the heck do I STAY caught up on ANYTHING? I just want to NOT feel at the end of the day like I did nothing, and yet exhausted myself in the process. Is that really so much to ask?

I did have make time to whip up a batch of home made chocolate chip cookies this morning, in between lunches & make-up. The laundry lost the "I'm of upmost importance" battle, for once.







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Sanity is over-rated

Two years, 6 months & 3 days ago, I met my soul mate. Last month, me & my four children moved into his home. We brought our cat. And then we went out & got a puppy last week. Three bedrooms in a full basement finishing project are 95% complete. A house owned by me is sitting, empty of humans yet half full of my worldly possessions, fate undetermined. We still have a family room & bathroom that need to be dry-walled, painted, etc. School just started, my work schedule has changed, I'm relearning how to be a mom. Talk about strange...being a mom for 17 years, and suddenly feeling as if you don't know *how* to be a mom. I'm also back to being a "wife". We aren't married, but once again I'm finding myself no longer being the only parent, the only one who needs work clothes washed, the only deciding factor in menu planning, or the only one who hates to pay bills. Did I mention the puppy?

I'm already questioning my sanity. I've been chasing the proverbial bone for over a year. I wanted it, so bad my mouth was drooling. I pushed & planned & worked HARD to catch the bone. Now it's sitting square between my jaws, and I'm ecstatic. But, I dunno what the hell to do with it. Gnaw on it? Bury it? Give it to the cat? Throw it in the air & let it hit me on the head?
And that's why I'm here....

"Don't do it. You'll be sorry."
"It's the hardest thing we've ever done."
"It was almost the end of our relationship."
"You're crazy. It won't work."
"Patience & grace. Lots of both. It's the only way."
"Love will not be enough to hold things together."
"If I did it all over again, I would run the other way, FAST."

These are things I've been told in response to my questions about blending families. I've read in forums dedicated to step mothers (evil & angelic alike), and the general consensus was always "my stepkids are the devil's spawn". I was overwhelmed at times with the level of resentment, anger & general "I hate my life" some of the women portrayed in their writings. It seemed so....wrong. And not the kind of person I wanted to be. Not the kind of experience I wanted to have. There had to be another way. There had to be successful blendings out there. There had to be moms who were blessed, and dare I say thankful, for their "bonus kids". And I was going to be one of those, if it killed me.

I suppose I should stop here, and apologize in advance if I've already offended someone, in my very first post. For this blog to be successful, for it to serve it's purpose to *me*, I'll have to be brutally honest in every syllable. I could tiptoe around the issues, and sugar coat the words, but what good would that do? If what I'm looking for is a way to stay sane, an avenue of escape & a quest for "answers to the age-old blending without murder or straitjacket questions", I'm going to have to throw politically correct out the window, and just type. So, let it be understood, I am not potentially offensive intentionally. I'm only me.. honest, and uncensored. Moving on...

It's been almost a month. One of the hardest months I've experienced in a long while.Emotionally, it's been on par with my divorcing days. I've had a moment or two where I've silently asked myself if I was doing the right thing. I've considered "going home", and realized this *is* home. I've felt pure joy, pride, anger, sadness, hope & everything in between. To say it's been a roller coaster would be slightly less dramatic then I want to convey here...it's been a wooden roller coaster, going 95.7 mph, with a hill that flips your stomach & makes ya barf on the guy behind you, right before sending you into a bumpy corkscrew that shouldn't even exist on a wood coaster. And your seat belt is broken, oh by the way. And when you get off, you feel sick, giddy & frothing at the mouth to do it again. Silly, silly, silly. But we've all been there, right?

We've had drama (ala 3 teen girls), a few kids who want to "go home", or "go to Mars", or go "anywhere but here". We've had heart to hearts, tears & a bit more yelling then we'd like. There have been major rules broken, a few tests of resolve & commitment & consequences. And it's only been a month. I now have a bit more sympathy for the women I judged as "evil, ungrateful, bitchy step-moms". I now understand they may have it worse then me. I now recognize they may have not had a venting venue, other then the postings that spewed their frustrations. I now see a glimpse of their reality.. I still think there is a better way, hope for my story to end differently.

This is just the beginning, rough as it is. I honestly think at this stage of the game, survival mixed with love & laughter is the goal. Sanity is over-rated, ice cream & rum are not.




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