St. Patrick's Day Paddy

Motherhood for me is changing. I used to be tired at the end of the day since I spent my time doing physical tasks such as feeding, changing diapers, dressing, pouring drinks, cleaning messes and all the rest of it.
I'm starting to get to the point where the kids can dress themselves, tidy their own rooms (with bribes), get their own drinks and snacks. I no longer have to change any diapers whatsoever and the messes are getting fewer. Of course there's still all the things that go along with maintaining a home but it seems manageable.
However at the end of the day I feel just as exhausted if not more so. I have realized that it's a mental exhaustion of constantly striving to guide my children in the right direction. It's the worry of letting them walk home from the bus stop and debating whether to trust them in another child's yard. They were playing across the street today with two children in their yard. I was by myself in the house doing this and that. Leia runs in breathless, saying that there was an emergency. Apparently Nathan had dropped something from the deck onto the patio below and it had smashed, releasing lots of white liquid. I was mortified and ran across the street fully expecting to see some kind of chemical that was ruining the neighbors patio. Thankfully it was nothing but a bit of leftover drink, covering an area about the size of a quarter. Of course it took a while for my pulse to return to normal.
And when Leia came home this afternoon, she rushed downstairs expecting to find a room that had been tidied by the leprechaun and a pot of chocolate money somewhere.
Now I have never in the whole course of my 29 years celebrated St. Patrick's Day. This year is no different and Leia did not even know the holiday existed this morning. But she had been well and truly indoctrinated at school and had also been pinched several times because she wasn't wearing green. I take issue with that for one and then also with the grief she exhibited because the leprechaun had passed her by. There were tears, clenching of fists, throwing of homework books and so on. I hinted that maybe there was no such thing as the leprechaun and her response convinced me she is not ready to handle the truth about Santa anytime soon.
Now I have enough to do with homework, swimming lessons, parent teacher conferences, spring break, and all the other holidays where I have to take on multiple personas. I am Santa, the Tooth Fairy, St. Valentine, the Easter Bunny, not to mention the organizer of birthday parties. I am not going to be the leprechaun as well. I'm sure Ireland is a great place but I've never been there and the holiday doesn't mean anything to me.
I am so thankful that Gary showed up 10 minutes ago. It's noisy downstairs as Daddy Monster is in fine form, but I can finally switch off from my "alert" status. And sometimes I think that takes more out of me than anything else.

A piece of my evening

Tonight Leia was involved in a performance of a musical program at school. They have been working on it for a while during music lessons and she was very excited. She did very well and I was very proud of her. Beforehand she was very fixated on the idea that the songs would make me cry. Apparently, her teacher had told them that the singing would make the parents cry. As I was getting her ready for bed when we got home, she asked very eagerly if I had cried during the singing. I am afraid I had to tell a little white lie. I mean, I'm British for goodness sake. I said that perhaps I had some tears in my eyes. Well Leia was jubilant. She jumped for joy. Why should my own child wish to reduce me to tears? She surely is an American child. I think I'm going to have to steer her away from all this touchy feely stuff! Forgive the quality of the pictures. They're not up to my usual standard due to the fact we were stuck in the very back



This was Leia's face when she first spotted us in the audience. She looked quite anxious until then.

Performing her heart out.

Spectators


Spencer wanted a piece of gum. In exchange I asked him for a picture. He didn't quite smile but he at least looked in my direction. What am I going to do for his birthday photo shoot?

To laugh (or not?)

I had an interesting morning. I decided to go to the gym and exercise. Not very interesting I hear you say but just wait. I deposited the boys in the play area and disappeared off to kill myself for 30 minutes. I was running around the track upstairs and could see what was going on with the boys while I was at it. At one point I could see that Spencer had been put in time out. Thrilling! I was in such suspense over his offense and I was not disappointed. My dear little blonde haired angelic sweet 5 year old boy told some other boy to "Kiss my a#s".

Disclaimer: I have never uttered these words in my life. Gary assures me it has been years for him. I can only assume Spencer heard it at school or the same playroom where he decided to repeat it.