The dishes probably will.
I have been waging a war this week. A war against my house.
I'm seriously out-gunned.
I've always known that being a stay-at-home mom is not really the job for me. It's not that I don't like being at home with my children; it's just that the job never ends.
IT NEVER ENDS.
For the most part, I enjoy working. I'm a highly social person, and as much as I rock at making peanut butter and jelly (I really do excel at food for the five-year old set), and as much as it THRILLS me to talk about ballet, and glitter, and unicorns all day (it does actually, but it is nice to break it up with a little non-glitter chatter), I can't help but feel a bit isolated at home.
Now, the balance part is not easy. I did feel envious towards the moms who were able to drop their kids off at pre-school every day and then head off to the gym. But then I would remember that they do it EVERY DAY and they can probably predict what their days will look like. I cannot predict my day, and I love that about my job. One day can be all about discussing data and the next can be about finding which stinker spray-painted a wee-wee in the boys' bathroom. (That's my professional life in a nut-shell--data and wee wees.) But as much as I love my job, I do feel pangs at how much I miss. I don't take Em to school, and I probably won't be the one to help her with most of her homework. (That's probably not a TERRIBLE thing...)
But every so often I am given the opportunity to remember how much I like working outside my home as I take on the temporary role of "stay-at-home" mom.
Like this week for example.
It was a little on the rough side.
First, there was the dishes, the non-stop dishes. Load the dishwasher, unload the dishwasher...repeat five time. I swear my forks and knives were copulating.
Then, there were the Barbies. And the princess dolls. And the markers. And the dress-up clothes. I endeavored hard to keep all of Em's stuff in her room, but it was like fighting the ocean. A very pink ocean.
But the true dragon in the house was (heck, still is) the laundry.
I cannot express the depth of my hatred towards laundry. It was pretty bad before Eliot was born, but now it is the true lord of our house.
And as a lord, laundry is an a-hole.
As I mentioned, prior to baby number 2, we Moeckli's already generated a sizable pile of dirty clothes. With Eliot, it's just plain ridiculous. God love him, but the boy drools like an old man with a bad Scotch habit and ill-fitting dentures. So pretty much every diaper, we change onesies. Add that to the baby blankets, towels, and swaddles, and it's just overwhelming.
This week I felt like I never sat down, I never stopped, and I never got anything done. I just don't know how people do it. True, my work at school is never done, but every day I get to leave. Yes, it may be at 9, but I do eventually go home.
So at the conclusion of this week, I feel a renewed gratitude for my life. I know when the school year starts that it will be a flurry of activity, and I will be exhausted by the end of most (all) days.
But at least I get to go to a place where I don't hear the washing machine. :)