Things have been busy for Adam lately. Since we are interdependent, this means I have been busier too. More time spent on work means less time spent parenting for him, and therefore more for me.
The past couple of days I’ve been pushing the kids along mostly on my own in the morning. It is an incredible feat to get four kids that are so young dressed, fed, ready for school, and pack the lunches each morning. All while trying to keep them from fighting, crying or both. I’m always surprised we aren’t late every day!
When this happens, Adam often apologizes for not being more helpful as he rushes out from where ever he has managed to find a quiet spot in the house to make his work call, read his document or whatever was due yesterday. Then he hurries the older kids in the car, his back laden with backpacks, school projects, and whatever else needs to be brought to school that day.
Although I find it stressful and wish he could help more, I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND that he is doing as much as he can. That he has stretched himself as thin as he possibly can which is pretty thin by anyone’s standards.
And sometimes, when I stand in his shoes, I want to say to myself, “Are you upset about the money I’m making from this job? Or are you upset because I pay for help during the week so your occasional morning with all four kids seems hard?” (It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?)
Adam would never say anything like that to me. Which is very lucky that I’m not earning the money. I don’t think I would make such a kind husband.
Still, all this busyness sometimes makes us forget things. Four kids schedules are a lot to keep up, and when something new is thrown into the mix we get even more overwhelmed then our normal state of overwhelmingness.
Like this morning when Adam came out from the bedroom as I was packing lunches and declared, “I have already billed 3 hours today.”
Then he looked at the clock and said, like he says every morning around the same time, like a line from a cheesy 80s sitcom, “We got to get to school or we are going to be late.”
A vision of Bart Simpson saying “Ai Caramba”, Norm saying, “Afternoon Everybody”, Tattoo yelling, “The Plane, The Plane”, and Larry from Newhart saying, “I’m Larry. This is my brother, Darryl. This is my other brother, Darryl.” all flash through my head briefly.
Then next he says something different. “Wait, isn’t today ‘Muffins with Mommy’ at Ben’s school?”
Crap! That was today? I checked the calendar. Yep, from 8am – 8:30am. I checked the time. 7:47am.
I was half way through cutting a PB&J. I still had my pajamas on. I hadn’t even put in my contacts. There was a twin crying at my feet, wanting to be held.
Adam graciously offered to take the twins to Jack’s school while he dropped them off. I threw on the closest thing I could find and hobbled as quickly as a woman in her 40s wearing a boot could over to Ben’s school.
We made it, just…
