I am the oldest of 3 children. I was the first to go to school, the first to play sports, the first to graduate, go to college, get married and have kids. I am a family person. You typically hear of a “Daddy’s Girl”. My father is a wonderful and hard-working man. I have learned so much from him. I have found, though, that I am more of a “Mommy’s Girl”.
I have so much in common with my mom. After I graduated high school I went to college at UMF. Not terribly far from the small town that I grew up in, but far enough away from my family that I hadn’t been away from before. I shed some tears as my parents left that first day of college. Wondering how I was going to survive without them. Knowing that my mother broke down on the car ride home was even more heartbreaking for me.
Fast forward to when I had my first child. It was 2010, and I was living about 2 hours from home with my husband. My sister and mom have made the drive to Lisbon at the perfect time because I was being induced. They stayed at my house and had a “welcome home” sign for when we brought Carson home.
I remember coming home that evening and being so excited that my mom was going to be there for another night. Someone who knew what they were doing! That all came to a halt when my sister got sick. Which meant they decided to go home. I was devastated. I remember rocking Carson to sleep in his bedroom and just crying. Crying for my mom. Crying because I felt alone. Just for clarification, my husband was there and super helpful, supportive, you name it. But there is something about having your mom there with you when you have your first child.
Six years later I still live about 1.5 hours away from my family. My brother and sister both live with 45 minutes of my parents and are able to visit more frequently than my family is. I feel sad. I feel sad that I can’t just come home when I want or visit my nephews for the afternoon. When we come, it usually is for an overnight because it is just too much work to pack up 2 kids for just the afternoon.
When we do make the overnight trip, I shed a few tears again when Sunday comes and I know we have to leave. As we pull out of the driveway I hold back the emotions so that my son, who is already upset about leaving, doesn’t worry about why I am sad. Tonight I came to my parents house without the rest of my family. I spent the evening with my sister and her two kids. Tomorrow we will go shopping, just us girls (mom included). I am really looking forward to it. But what I am not looking forward to is leaving on Sunday. Leaving with those tears that I just can’t seem to hold back. At 33 years old I still need my mom…
Growing up I didn’t need to make sure that things were “perfect”. I remember trying to make sure that the house would be clean for my mom when she got home from work. Mostly I would vacuum the living room and bedrooms for her. I enjoyed doing that the most because you could see the vacuum marks on the rug and it just “looked” clean. On days that I didn’t do it I could feel the stress my mom was having. I didn’t like that.
As an adult, I noticed that I started experiencing the same stress that she had when my apartment wasn’t clean. I would be stressed if the sink was full of dishes and if things weren’t put away where I thought they should go. I am surprised that my boyfriend still decided to ask me to marry him! Unfortunately, he was the one who would have to “deal” with my attitude until the house was “up to par”.
Now, I should mention I now have a 6-year old and a 2-year old. Plus a dog that isn’t even a year old now. When we first found out I was pregnant I knew I had to try to let things go because I didn’t want my child to experience the stress about something so small.
My son arrived on July 21st of 2010 and I didn’t really pay attention to how clean the house was. I was so wrapped up in being a mom to him that it didn’t seem to matter. This isn’t to say that I forgot about the toys being all over the floor, the dishes piling up with bottles, etc. My husband was wonderful about helping out when he could because he knew how I felt about it.
Fast forward to 2017 and another child and puppy later… we made english muffin pizzas last night and I asked the kids if they wanted to help.
Of course, they did. My 6-year old spread the sauce and they both sprinkled the cheese. As the sauce and cheese went all over the counter and floor, I took a deep breath and soaked up the moment that I would never be able to get back with them. One day they will be too old to help with pizzas or too old to snuggle. I fear for that day. I will have many hours to clean and organize when I am older and no longer “needed”. Until then, my home is lived in, which is how it is supposed to look.
Day 104 seems like day 4. Coming back from vacations are so difficult with 5 and 6 year olds. As vacation approaches I try to mentally prepare myself for routines and transitions that are going to have to be practiced and modeled again. Yet I come back from a restful week only to be stressed out that they have forgotten how to line up nicely or how to try and “talk it out” with a peer before coming to tattle. Tattling… that is another subject!
I love my job and I love the age that I teach. If anyone were to tell me that I could trade with any grade level I would stay right where I am. They are babies when they enter my classroom and leave with so much more independence and knowledge that it warms my heart. I should post quotes throughout my plan book and in areas that are only for me in my classroom so that when I am having “one of those days”, I can glance at it really quick and remember that I love what I do.
So back to the struggle… I have a student who, in addition to having difficulty with returning from vacations, etc., I am having a hard time finding my patience with her. I like to think of myself as a patient person. With this child, she has to come and tell me if her sock has come off or if she put her shoes in her backpack, etc. She already has a hard time keeping her focus long enough to get ready to go home that hearing about her sock falling off her foot isn’t really a big deal to me. I just feel as though it is taking time away from students who really need my help.
This is something that goes on all day long which I think is why I am losing my patience. Anyone else have a similar situation? How are you handling it?