A while back, Elizabeth from Three Channels referred to herself as an overeducated char-woman and the term stuck with me. I liked it, because it was such an apt description of what I feel like most days. I went to college and studied English. After college, I worked in a legal publishing company and then decided to go to graduate school. While pursuing my Master's degree in Education, I taught English as a Second Language at a community college. After getting my degree I taught English at an inner-city, alternative high school, a university and a couple of community college. In all that time, I don't ever remember being called upon to clean up poop. Once, a high school student who was pregnant puked in my class after eating a breakfast of Red Hot Cheetos, but the dean came and cleaned it up.
I don't just feel like a char-woman because of the messes I regularly clean up, but also because sometimes I feel like I am completely sapped dry by the needs of my kids and others. Here's an example. At church, I am one of the women in charge of the children, so every Sunday, I spend most of my time with other people's kids, while trying to get my kids to behave at the same time. This Sunday was an exception. They were having a special program for the women, so the men substituted for us with the kids. I am a bit embarrassed at how excited I was at the prospect of hanging out with some women and no kids. I couldn't wait.
Then, comes Sunday and Danny was beside himself with crying when he found out I wasn't going to Primary with him. I stood in the hall for at least 30 minutes trying to coerce/bribe him into going with the other kids. I even offered him the option of coming with me and hanging with the women, but he wasn't biting. He just wanted to sit in the hall. With me. In his defense, I think he was a bit overstimulated. Church is the one place where he regularly has difficulty--it isn't really set up for kids like him, and the changes I have tried to institute have been met with some resistance.
Anyway, as I stood with him in the hallway, watching the minutes tick by, the precious minutes during which I could have been sitting with the other women, I actually started to cry. I know, I know, you will probably say my pregnancy hormones are to blame, but I was completely disappointed to miss this opportunity to be childless for an hour or so. And not just childless, but childless while having the pleasure of other adults' company and conversation. Bil finally did manage to convince Danny to go to nursery. He is too young for nursery, technically, but at that point I didn't care.
And now here I type while my two kids and their two friends laugh and play in the family room and my husband naps. And naps. And naps. I can't really complain; he was up really late last night working on a project to help me. But still. Here I am alone with kids. Again. I know this is a recurring theme with me and I shouldn't be so ungrateful. I should enjoy the time with my kids and not ---- OK, I just had to run into the family room and give all the kids a timeout for fighting and throwing toys all over my heretofore previously clean family room. So much for enjoyment.
I need to get out. I need to get out with some friends. I need to make more friends. I need a cleaning service, because I am so totally done with cleaning up endless messes and never having any of my work staying done for more than an hour. Sigh.