This afternoon I sort of reached my breaking point in what his been an overwhelmingly heavy week for me. Things at work have been needlessly hectic and anxiety-inducing. I seem to be doing a lousy job of making people happy and at home there is little improvement. Arriving home at almost 7 p.m. most nights this week has resulted in very little time with the kids and what time I do have is not necessarily pleasant. La Luz is generally wiped out, in need of some one-on-one attention, and feeling rebellious and cranky. James is done by 6 p.m. and will only spare us the dreaded screams if he is held and allowed to shake, convulse, and squirm around until he can grab on to something, anything, usually my carotid artery or hair. Needless to say, there are days and weeks when I wonder what the point of it all is...working so much to make things work at home and not really doing a proper job on either end seems silly. Did I mention that James rolled, rather, launched himself off of the bed last night and on to the hard, wood floor? Yes, that was my fault. So, I am thinking, why not trade it all in and retire to farm or live on a beach somewhere selling macrame bracelets and relying on the kindness of others? It is possible, of course, but the risks of not succeeding and the lifestyle those options prevent...well, I am just not sure if it is for me. On the other hand, sometimes the alternative is just daunting. I am hoping, as is usually the case in September, that the first cool breeze lightens things up and makes it easier for me to breathe.
Until then, I can hang in there, even knowing that my quality time is limited to this:
Thursday, 7:45 a.m., 5 minutes before departure to school. This is a snapshot of the 50 minutes I get to spend with the kids in the morning (and this is not uninterrupted, quality time...we are packing bags, making lunches, collecting bottles, going over assignments we missed when we failed to unload the bookbag the night before, showering, dressing, and eating breakfast).
It breaks my heart a little because I know how fast this will pass by me.