Tomorrow is Diva’s last day of preschool until the fall. That means any chance of my having quiet is in peril. Not that I don’t love/cherish/need/have fun with my daughter. She adds sparkle and insanity to my life. She challenges me to come up with solutions for problems I could never have anticipated. She makes me a better person. It’s just that around her, quiet becomes an endangered species. And her energy must be channeled toward good for the sake of humanity (and my relative sanity).
This is a sprite who is always skipping or running or doing – any adjective that ends with –ing. If she’s not physically active, she’s whining, laughing, giggling, crying…you get my drift. My daughter needs more stimulation than mom can often give otherwise she will FIND things to stimulate her. Our town pool will provide most of the energy-release she needs as will the various 2-hour camps I’ve signed her up for. So will The Tween, aka The Boy.
He finishes school next week. The constant pleas for playdates will hit a feverish pitch, especially since Little League is now over (thank goodness he’s signed up for soccer in the fall!). He, too, will attend camp but I’ve built in a good amount of mother-son time in just for us. With him, at least, I can get some peace (maybe). It’s the combination of both kids together that challenges me.
The Tween was a mere three-year old when he looked at me one day, sighed, and said, “I wish I had a brother or sister.” Bippity-boppity-boop! Three years later, his sister arrived from China (although his desire for a sib was only one reason we adopted) and it was LOVE AT FIRST SITE! He took one look at this joyous little girl, took the stroller away from me, and said, “Mom, she’s MINE now!”
The love is still as intense as ever, as are the usual sibling squabbles…which happen lately on a minute-by-minute basis. Keeping two such diverse beings is a challenge only magnified by their five year difference in ages. He’s sweet enough to often do the limited act ivies she can do, but she is quite frustrated that she cannot do what a nine-year old can do. My refereeing skills are getting quite a workout (a black and white striped shirt should be standard attire for most moms).
To get peace I’ll do what I need to do. Sometimes they’ll watch television together. At the pool they usually play well. I’ll institute some reading time and get them each playdates.
And, I will lock myself in the bathroom more often than I choose to think about.
This is an original NJ Moms Blog post. Look for more from me at http://momscrayon.blogspot.com.
I am sitting outside on our front porch, beside my husband, eating frozen yogurt out of the carton, impressed by the magic of fireflies rising and glowing in the dusk. We watch our neighbors walk home from the high school graduation ceremony. Though it's hot, dads are dressed in long sleeve shirts and ties. The moms are in heels that catch in the cracks of the sidewalk.
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