As you know if you are a regular reader, I typically write a “Tuesday Tip.” People tend to marvel at the way we seemingly breeze through life with our brood of five children and have asked that I share the things that work for us – snack ideas, vacation spots, general discipline tips, etc. – and so I do. Here’s the thing though – it’s not always a breeze. In fact, it rarely is.
When the clock struck midnight last night, I was still filling out school forms and realized that I’d literally timed myself out of my typical Tuesday tip. I thought perhaps I’d share a nugget of “Wednesday wisdom” but, I fear what you’re going to get here instead is a massive dose of “Wednesday whining.”
At the moment, I’m tapped out of tips. I’m tired. Exhausted, in fact. Ever since summer came to an abrupt close and the school year started, I’ve felt like a rat on a wheel. Everything in our life seems to be stuck in high gear, in the fast lane. My job, always fast-paced and challenging, has picked up in intensity. Our two older kids, now officially first and third graders, are adjusting to a busy school year as we all struggle to get in the groove of wake up/school bus/ homework/ CCD/soccer /wash/rinse/repeat. It’s a never-ending circuit with backpacks, folders and soccer cleats constantly caught in the spin cycle.
Then there are the triplets. Almost four (how did that ever happen so fast?!), they are gearing up for preschool. Hence the forms I was filling out late last night. When did they first walk/talk/sit/stand/crawl? I honestly don’t have a clue. I was going to make it up but didn’t have the energy. So, I simply entered “at the normal age of development” on all three forms. Then I had to explain how our trio of tots differ – after all, they are identical and the school needs a few hints for telling them apart. Think about that for a minute – I have to create copious notes for anyone who interacts with our three little fellas… teachers, babysitters, heck, even my own parents can’t tell them apart. It’s not a breeze.
Perhaps most challenging for me the past few weeks has been writing our address on each of the zillion forms that have crossed the threshold – forms for Girl Scouts and soccer, for emergency contacts and basic medical information. Each and every form requires our address. And each and every time I write it down I want to cry. Why? Because we are moving. In just about six weeks. Where? Once again, I honestly haven’t a clue.
We sold our house, which was the right thing to do. We’ve outgrown it. It has been the perfect “my first house” and now it’s time for the next one. But where is it? I don’t know. And I’m worried. And scared. And totally freaked out. I’ve tried to pack but I just can’t do it. How can I pack if I don’t know where we are going? Will we find a house to rent and need to stick some stuff in storage? Will we find a house to buy and only live in limbo for a few weeks between close dates? Will we be flopping on the floors of friends and therefore only need our clothes? I don’t know. I just don’t know. And that is why if I need to fill out one more freakin’ form with our current address – our home sweet home — I will, well, I suppose I will keep on keepin’ on. What other choice is there? I will grin and bear it. I will hope for the best. I will try to have faith that it will all work out in the end. And when it does, I just might share how it did in Tuesday Tip of the future. Until then, stick with me and forgive me for the Wednesday Whine!