I’ve been thinking about this again. It’s pointless and useless and all kinds of futile, I know. But Mondays are the hardest of them all. And not just for me.Thankfully, I am preserved from the horror show that is The Dropoff 97.975643 percent of the time. That task of infinite joy and wonder falls to Hubby.
I especially pity him on Mondays, because The Dropoff becomes THE DROPOFF, not with just tears and clinging, but with blood-curdling shrieks and “No Daddy”-s on replay and a refusaltoloosenhergriponhisneckherblankieorhersippiecup.
This morning, in those minutes I lay in bed waiting for the alarm to sound, I contemplated what life would be like if I were to quit my job. It wasn’t pretty. We would have to move, doubtless, to a small apartment. We would definitely qualify for state assistance of several varieties. Goodbye to $37 duck costumes for Halloween and $100 kitchen sets for Christmas. No more trips to the zoo. No more children’s museum. No more new clothes (even if they come from the Children’s Place sales of the 30-percent-off racks at Target). No more pumpkin-picking festivals. No more carnivals. No more circus. Is that really what’s best for her?
But is it really best for her to be dropped off most weekday mornings? Is it best for her to see her mother two hours a day during the week? Am I really asking if it’s best for ME?
I am making it out to be worse than it is, I know. She has made friends, friends she asks about on the weekends and in the evenings. She has learned things I never would have thought to teach her. She hates to leave when I get there to pick her up.
Every day with her is more fun, more enlightening and more challenging. I embrace it (and her) with a fervor that sometimes scares me. I want the best of everything for her – including the best of me. And I just want MORE of her. I think that’s normal.
Every so often, Hubby will look at me over her head and say, “We get to keep her” with a smile of pure contentment. Thank God for that. Thank God we have 16 more years before she goes to college. And I don’t even know if that will be enough.