Tuesday, June 19, 2012

My brain is a wet noodle

I have just finished 5 hours of homework.  Add that to the 7 hours that I'm in class each day, with short breaks to eat, ride the bus with smelly people, and go to the bathroom, you have the majority of my day.  Don't get me wrong, I love learning and school (heck, I'm a teacher) but I feel like these past few weeks have caused me to delve into the little used recesses of my brain and give them a poke with a cattle prod.  All of those calculus and math indents in my brain tissue have lain undisturbed for 12 years, only to be rudely awakened by statistic formulas.  "Help!" they scream, "We thought that we were in our retirement years, sipping virgin pina coladas on the beach."  Oh no, now they are forced to work again like septuagenarians at Walmart.  Argh.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Where the heck is my mommy hat?

         For the first time in a really really really long time I am being selfish.  By selfish I mean that 99.9 percent of my day I am catering to my own needs and no one else's.  Strange, I don't think that I've felt this way for over a year, maybe two?  I'm in Phoenix taking concentrated graduate music classes for three weeks while Jack is watching the kids (blessed wonderful man!)
        For those of you who aren't in the mommy time of life, you might not think that any of the things that I will mention are extremely exciting, but others of you will smile and wistfully remember the time in your life when these things were a given.

I get to go to the bathroom, by myself, not holding anyone or talking to anyone or listening to anyone--with the door closed.

When it is time to eat lunch I can ask myself, "What do I really feel like eating?" and do it, with a minimum of fuss and drama.

I can spread myself out in the bed and not worry about hitting anyone or being elbowed, grabbed, kicked, or cried on.

I have time to put makeup on in the morning.

I actually care about putting on makeup in the morning.

I will go hours without having a single conversation about poop.

I don't have to check with someone before I use the computer (Max or hubby)

I don't have to watch a kids TV show.

I don't even have to worry about putting out tantrum fires.

Lest you think that I'm unduly enjoying my alternate universe, I confess that I'm missing out on the good things too, like sticky kisses, cuddles, and sibling laughter.

It's a nice break, though.