I don’t do well with rapid-fire change, to be fair. I guess I’m kind of Rainman like that. I need to get a bit better at rolling with punches. Most of the moms and general “carers for others” that I sit back and admire are the ladies (and gents) that can have a dozen people pop in to their homes unannounced and somehow manage to put together a delightful lunch using only breadcrumbs and some canned tuna, meanwhile managing to tidy up the house or at least pretend not to even be worried about it, meanwhile managing to come up with the most insane, creative, and messy activities for the kids, mess in the house and clothes be damned. I would be breathing into a paper bag, sending someone out to Little Caesar’s while I scrubbed the commode and all the toothpaste off the mirror in the kids’ bathroom (how that even happens I don’t know), cussing under my breath about pop-ins, and putting a nice movie on the TV for the kids.
Things are happening rather off-the-cuff here due to the flooding. This morning, Stella starts art camp. I realized about an hour ago that I’m a nervous wreck. To be fair, the Art Council puts on summer camps all the time that have a very good reputation. Furthermore, this place and all the other wonderful places that are scrambling to put on these “pop up” camps for all the kiddos with no place to go were only operational a few weeks ago, and getting back into the routine should be pretty easy. Furthermore, 2 of Stella’s friends from her old school are attending, and she’s happy about that. Furthermore, my office is only 2.5 blocks away.
So why my anxiety? Maybe because an hour ago I got an email reminding parents to pack rain gear, as they’ll be walking around downtown and it might rain (and Stella does not currently own a raincoat). Maybe it’s because my daughter is in a building I’ve never set foot in myself. Maybe it’s because she’ll be with adults I’ve never laid eyes on before, and I know nothing of their credentials or backgrounds. Holy shit, I must be a monster of a mother to send my kid out into the world and just trust that it’ll be ok.
Breathe. It will be ok. But as I said, anxiety.
Stella was so excited about this last night she could barely sleep. By the end of last week/this weekend, we were all so incredibly sick of the sight of each other. She was bored. I was bored and becoming more anxious about the crap building up at work. Felix was Felix. That kid is unflappable.
This will be a good thing. We’ve been talking about trying to find her art lessons, anyway.
We just got a new roof on our house. During the onset of the awful flood-inducing rain, our roof started leaking badly. At one point, we had water dripping through/across our electrical junction box. Will was up on the roof with tarps in the middle of it all, getting soaked. It’s costly, but will be ok. And given how much others have lost, I’m grateful that only a roof needed replacing. And we knew it was a ticking time bomb, anyway.
And today is mine and Will’s 7th wedding anniversary. I am calling it the Year of the Shingle. I think we’ve been together (as in dating/cohabitating) for 13 years? Or is it 14? Damn. I should know that. A good friend offered to take both kids for a couple of hours Saturday, so Will and I got to have a bit of a celebratory lunch. That was nice. She, incidentally, is the kind of off-the-cuff mom I admire. Stuff just doesn’t seem to stress her out. While the girls painted and swam, she gave Felix a fancy mop bucket to play with. That was perfect.
So happy neurotic Monday, everyone.