In a few minutes, I’m boarding a flight and covering a press event in Southern Cali. It’s a quick trip and not even very far, but it’s an eternity in terms of documenting the logistics involved with two kids and a household. All of which will be in the care of my husband in my absence.
It’s not that my husband can’t handle everything. It’s just that he doesn’t, so I normally don’t bother sharing details like what time the house cleaners show up or where you’re supposed to stand for afternoon pick up.
Earlier this week, I could tell that my constant reminders about this and that were causing a hint of shock and panic in his eyes. So I took the time to write it all down—color-coded and by date and child.
What they ought to wear. What needs to be brought to school. Pick up times.
Before I packed my bags, I made sure all of the checks for daycare were written and homework folders were completed. I order extra diapers and bought snacks for my daughter’s “God’s Creation Celebration” (her new Christian preschool’s nod to Halloween). I filled the freezer with food, pretending that we don’t always eat like that anyway….
It’s a lot to remember and I usually rely on a series of notes and daily alarms to tell me of where I need to be at any given moment. Even then, I still send back permission slips without a check and forget to return the unsold Entertainment Book and raffle tickets. (oops!)
It’s only gotten worse since I started working in an office again, but I don’t care if I come off as a slacker mom to other people. I’m willing to give up my reputation as the “one in the know” and skimping on the home-cooked meal, so long as my kids never feel the pinch.
Luckily, I’ve managed to shape my hours and my travel around their schedules. I‘m doubly lucky to have a supportive husband who is willing to embrace the chaos while I’m away.
I was feeling pretty confident about leaving for a few days until I received an email from my son’s teacher. She wrote to inform me that he is being given an award at morning assembly tomorrow.
It’s a surprise (so, shh… don’t tell him) and I won’t be there to see the look on his sweet little face.
Suddenly, I don’t know that I am making a fair exchange or that they won’t be feeling the pinch.
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