Free Time

Everyone told me that once the kids were in school I would have more time. I liked that idea, considering how behind I am in just about every responsibility I have as the COO of the Harvey Household. I was looking forward to the day Maisey would start Kindergarten, albeit with a slight twinge of sadness that my baby was starting school, but also with a sense of accomplishment: I could catch up on all the things I let fall by the wayside on a daily/weekly/monthly basis.Here was six hours a day I could spend one-on-one with Evie, I could get caught up on housework, I could work on some home projects, take care of things I had neglected, like my garden, my horse, myself.

But since the first day of school August 18, I don't feel like I've had any free time. Granted, I still have a two-year old at home, who requires more time than I remember the first time around, but the mountain of laundry and dishes awaiting my attention, the toys and endless collections of stuffed animals stickers, beads, and rocks--the newest collectible of the Harvey children--strewn throughout the house, which is always in need of a vacuum and mop, and repairs lately, all these things and more just linger on my to do list, making me feel like a hamster in a wheel. Where was all that "free time" I was supposed to have while Maisey is in school? I spend more time now preparing Maisey for school with lunch, clothes, homework, projects, parties, and paperwork than I ever remember being responsible for myself in college. And I remember I used to work 3 jobs in college and still made the dean's list.

Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out. --Anton Chekhov

So I guess I'm right where I should be.

Surviving Siblings

Why oh why did I think that two kids would get along and play together? I had visions of tea and slumber parties. Dress ups and playing babies and Barbies. I had some ridiculous notion that Maisey, being the big sister, would protect and take care of her little sister Evie. I envisioned her showing Evie everything--how to pour tea, how to paint, how to play Barbies, and yes, even dinosaurs. And I thought Evie, oh fragile dainty child, would be ever so willing to do whatever Maisey wanted. To adoringly toddle around after her.
She does toddle around after Maisey. But mostly they snatch, they scream, they tug of war. Most of the Polly Pockets are headless. Toys spend more time in the "Saturday Box" than they do being played with. And I find myself having to raise my voice above the din just to try to retain the peace. When does it get better?
Some days it starts first thing in the morning, and doesn't seem to stop until Evie's in bed. Sometimes I feel like they're gladiators, circling the living room, eyeing each other, and the same toy, waiting to strike.

I don't remember much about how well my sister and I got along when we were little; we always shared a room. We always shared. We always took turns. We didn't fight over toys. That's what my mother says when I ask her about my own childhood. But I know my sister and I fought. I know we had times when we wished we could be alone in our bedroom, that we didn't have to share anything, that we didn't have a sister to deal with. And I am trying to teach my girls that sharing is important, and while it doesn't always come easily, it will always be worth the good feelings they will get from giving.