This summer, lost in delusional selfish thoughts of sleeping late and lounging on the beach, I made the critical error of not enrolling my kids in any summer camps/school/programs. I foolishly thought that it would be fun to spend our last summer here on Okinawa exploring and being beach bums. So, as my reward, I have spent every day of the summer with my children. Every. Single. Day.
I have been awoken by one of them each day at 6:30 a.m., asking if it's time for breakfast (often after being awaken repeatedly in the middle of the night because someone wet the bed/saw a ghost/saw a bug/heard a noise/had to go potty/had a nightmare/had a tummy ache/fell out of bed/needed to be covered up...). Upon my shooing them out of my room, one of them returns approximately every 5 minutes, asking, until I finally peel myself out of bed and give them food after they have each rudely shouted their "order" at me. No, really...if I, in my sleep-deprived state, deliver the wrong flavor cereal in front of them, they say "This isn't what I ordered!"
Two days ago, I was awoken to one of them shouting that another one had peed all over the bathroom floor. Every Mom's dream to wake up to. After a firm talk about making it to the potty, I was sure said child understood...but, alas, I was cleaning poop out of their underwear later, 5 minutes after they had yelled at me to wipe their bottom. What? And this was right after they had jumped off the couch and knocked over about 10 picture frames on a table, breaking several.
Anaya drew on the fridge (mind you, which we don't own) with a black Sharpie marker. Magic Eraser didn't work.
At the start of summer, I established a curriculum to sit down with them and do a little lesson everyday. Bible, Writing and Spanish. I knew it might be tough since I was dealing with two very different ages and skill levels, but I was optimistic. Silly me. We started strong the first two days, only to have Adam complain about not getting a coloring sheet on the third day, the twins scream and cry when they weren't the first one to repeat the Spanish word after me, and pout or cry if I made them trace and write the letter "C" instead of the letter "Y," which they apparently needed to trace to save their life that day. Let me wrap this up by informing you that we only made it to the letter "J" before I had to knock off the lessons due to lack of patience. There simply isn't enough in the world for that.
Adam left a stick of gum in the pocket of his shorts, which went in the wash...then the dryer...Magic Eraser didn't work. Nothing worked. And we don't own that dryer, either.
I make time to take Adam to extra karate classes, only to have him flail his arms like a ragdoll when he's supposed to be performing certain strikes, ignoring Sensei's instructions, and smirking at me, ignoring my glares and pointing finger. What a waste of time and money. Not to mention embarrassing.
With some sort of delusional belief that they would actually listen to me, and having given them a very severe warning with descriptions of acceptable and unacceptable behavior, I took them with me to a "kid-friendly" meeting at a woman's house I barely know. Within 2 minutes of arriving, they had broken every rule I had given them, spilled orange juice in the living room and wiped chocolate (from a chocolate muffin I had instructed them not to touch) on an upholstered chair. They interrupted the meeting every 30 seconds and did not help clean up the house. Embarrassing is, again, the most accurate word here.
They scream and fight and cry and tattle and complain and argue and lie about everything. Everything. I am so tired of them that I could sell them. Really, I love my kids - I would never really actually give them away. Really. But, really. Really? I don't know...I just hate that lately I feel like I yell more than anything and I constantly live on the edge of fury. This summer has been the hardest time for me here, without a doubt. I have felt the fun and the life being sucked out of me and it's a sad, terrible feeling.
So you know what I've learned this summer? First, I definitely learned to always sign them up for something in the summer. Always. Also, I've learned that I'm over being a stay-at-home Mom. This doesn't mean that I don't appreciate that I had the option of being a SAHM - I am very blessed to have been allowed to opportunity. But, similarly to snow skiing, it isn't for me. Not everyone is cut out for it. I think I can love them better - and, possibly they me - if we have a great big break during the day, so once we're moved and settled, I'll definitely be job-hunting. Of course, this realization comes to me now, two weeks after I have hit "submit" on my order of homeschool curriculum. That's right! I'm homeschooling Adam this year! WTH? It's a sacrifice decision - since we'll be moving in the middle of the fall semester and would prefer not to rush off to the next school, but be allowed some time to visit family, it made sense. It was the best decision for the family. But, I'll tell you what - there isn't a day that goes by that I don't ask myself "What was I thinking?" The only saving grace is that the twins will be in preschool, so it should make things a little easier.
So, in case you thought it was all rainbows and unicorns around the Dayton house, you can rest assured it most definitely is not. It is more like mud puddles and dragons. Please don't misunderstand - I always count my blessings and I certainly realize that my family is incredibly blessed. But, at the same time, we all face our own challenges and I certainly believe that the good Lord does not put before us any obstacle we cannot overcome. I survive believing that there is purpose in this struggle. What that purpose is, God only knows. In the meantime, I continue to pray to Him and ask Him for guidance and strength, stamina, patience, and love, so that I can overcome this struggle. After all, this too shall pass, right? But until it passes, we're going to need more wine.
