The Natives Are Restless...

            My children do not tolerate isolation well.  I am trying to pace myself with setting up our new home, so I occasionally take breaks.  If  they see me inactive for more than two minutes the questions start.  “Can we go outside?” “Can we go to the park?”“Can we watch a movie?”.  Grace then always adds, “Is it snack time?”  I swear that child never does anything but think about food when she is bored.  And she is BORED.  When they are older I will be able to give them a task to do, but now at 3,4 and 7 years old, normal tasks can become dangerous.  Any cleaning tool can be a weapon, or a tool for disassembly as I am frantically trying to assemble. 

            During times like these, I fantasize about having some of those lobotomized children that can sit in front of the TV for hours.  I would settle for 20 minutes right now.  Yesterday, as I was cleaning I witnessed a zombie war, a family of very dysfunctional, whining children (none of them wanted to play the mom… hmmmm…), and hide and seek.  The only reason why I knew they were playing hide and seek was because as I was walking into the kitchen I heard a small voice say, “Hi mom,” and there was Lily curled up in an impossibly small shelf of the TV cabinet.  She had even managed to close the doors around her.  She had one of those triumphant preschool smiles, and I hated to dash her sense of accomplishment, but she was on a GLASS shelf.  I eased her out of the cabinet slowly and admonished her for climbing on the furniture, and immediately realized that if she was in the TV cabinet that the other kids might be hiding in even more dangerous places. However, they had forgotten about the game and left Lily in the cabinet to wait and figure out that they had moved on to some kind of spy game.

            While I love my kids, I am ready for school to start.  As I was cleaning the grout in my bathroom with a scrub brush and high-powered steam cleaner, I wondered how women did these kinds of chores in the 1950’s and 1960’s.  My grandmother had seven children.  How did she get anything done?  There were so many more chores too.  The clothes all had to be ironed, food made from scratch,  only ONE TV with no Netflix.  The thought is impossible.  I picture a Mad Men-esque scenario with Paul as Don Draper coming home from a long day.  He would expect food on the table, and that I would have showered.  I think I would have been institutionalized back then.   I guess now is not so bad, considering the shrieking coming from the playroom right now.  It certainly beats being expected to do my vacuuming in high heels…

the last year...

It has been a little over a year since my last post.  I don’t even know where to begin.  In April of 2012 our lives were turned upside-down.  My husband lost his job. 

Anyone who has been through this before knows the pain and anxiety that this brings.  We had a significant amount of money in the bank and renters for our home, so it was “easier” for us than it is for most people.  However, here we are, more than a year later, savings gone, house in short sale, living in a different state. 

When it became apparent that we were going to lose our health insurance and could not afford COBRA, which is horrifically expensive, I got a job teaching.  We figured it would take, maximum, six months for Paul to find a job.  Unfortunately, it took ten months.  There were many “final interviews”.  Paul was flown to Pennsylvania, Iowa, Georgia, Texas, Tennessee, and Wisconsin.  Each time we waited with baited breath to find out if he got the job, and each time we were disappointed. 

When Paul finally found a job he moved down to Georgia and I stayed in Virginia to finish my teaching contract. In retrospect it might have been better if I had followed him, but hind-sight is 20/20.  I learned what it is like to be a single working mom, something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.  It was the hardest, most demoralizing, frustrating thing I have ever done in my life.  We lost our renters in May because, though they signed a 4 year contract, in Virginia, military personnel can break their lease if the military moves them.  Civilians like us had to pay a break of lease fee and find renters for the home we were living in. 

We are still in the short sale process with our home.  It has also been a demoralizing, frustrating process.  The bank has no obligation to tell us anything.  They have requested paperwork, then more paperwork, then told us we have to be delinquent on our mortgage, then told us we have too much money, then told us to re-submit our paperwork.  I won’t know until September if they will even let us continue with the short sale.  

Through all of this I have learned some very valuable lessons, ones that I will carry with me my whole life.

1)   Life can get worse, even when it is bad.

2)   Life is not fair, and the hardest part is maintaining your own sense of morals and ethics even when people are not treating you properly.

3)   Not everyone will appreciate the sacrifices you make, so make them in the spirit that they are a gift for which you will receive no thanks.

4)   NEVER EVER judge someone based on your perceptions of them, especially single mothers and the unemployed.  You have no idea what they are going through.

I can’t tell you how much it hurt around the election when people would write Facebook updates about President Obama winning the election because all of the lazy unemployed people taking advantage of the system had plenty of time to vote, while ‘working’ people had to be at work.  Trust me, being unemployed is MUCH worse than holding a job. 

I got to be that mom that forgot to make cupcakes for my son’s class on his birthday.  I got to be that mom that the teachers chased down to sign a permission slip for a field trip I forgot about.

I got to be the mom who comes home from work with no energy or time for her own kids. 

My kids got to be the ones who could not buy the pictures from picture day because we couldn’t afford them.

My kids were the kids who didn’t go to birthday parties they were invited to at school because we couldn’t afford to buy presents.

I learned many lessons, and I am still learning.  To be honest I am ready to let someone else learn lessons for a little while.  I need a break.