Oh January 6th. I’ve longed for you for a couple weeks now.
You see the joy of seeing Will write his Christmas Eve letter to Santa is long faded. The amazed look on his face as he opened even MORE Scooby Doo chapter books that he didn’t even ask for has regressed into my memory. It’s glazed over behind the epic tantrums of being in daycare one day but not the next. It’s clouded over by the constant ‘next Christmas I want’s. It’s neatly hidden behind my extra waist line and red wine stained lips.
Here’s the deal. You guys know I’ve never been a massive fan of Christmas. It brings me down. I did take TOTAL joy in watching the build up with Will over December. But you see, we were still in school on a regular schedule. The second it let out, it felt to me like all hell broke loose. My kid who cries that daycare is boring because ‘we don’t learn anything’ was replaced with a over stimulated crazy person.
Not a fan.
Now lest you think I’m the meanest mom in the entire world. Every thing he did was 100% normal and age appropriate. What I really hate is what it does to me. I get incapable of remembering that he is five and the true satanic figure in the equation is me.
I like routine. I like to be organized. I like my house free of clutter. I almost had an orgasm opening my new calendar yesterday and popping in all the dates and hanging that baby on the fridge. Our life. Layed out where I can see it. I’m not sure when I got this way. I know my spontaneous side is still in there. It still would love to whip off to NYC at a moments notice and get of it’s pajamas to go and catch an awesome band that has started playing downtown. I know it’s there. But it’s been overtaken by the maternal instinct in me. Or should I say the ‘paternal’ – because I am my father’s daughter.
And there’s zero wrong with it. Except when it turns me into a raging lunatic.
So. The calendar is up. School has started and, thankfully, a routine is back. I’m hoping my New Year’s resolution to return to meditating (yes – I have started!), will bring me back to a happy medium of spontaneous v anal retentive.
What about you? Are we happy to be back to routine??
**honestly – this made me laugh harder than I have in a week**
I got pretty used to the free-wheeling ways of the holidays, but I was happy to get back to work. Now, if you ask me again on Labour Day I might have a slightly different opinion…
i think it really does get better as they get older. i can’t believe i’m saying it but i kind of miss them right now! that’s not to say i need them back _right now_ as i’m enjoying surfing the interwebs and drinking coffee 🙂
i do need a routine, tho’ otherwise i find myself getting really lazy…like reading the interwebs and drinking coffee…..
I’ll read this again tomorrow, when my turkeys go back to school. Things are a wreck around here, like whoa.
I’m with you – no routine means I was late twice for work last week, kids are whinier and less tolerant because they’ve seen too much of each other, I don’t get to the gym at all, and I stay up way too late because we give our night owl tendencies free rein. So glad to be getting back on track right now!