Last night I drove home from work with a tinge of fear and a whole lot of guilt. Chris is out of town for the week and I'd been at EfM. It was almost 9 pm; I was exhausted, and I had no idea what I was about to walk into when I got there. All of the children except Caroline (and that in and of itself is fear inducing) had broken a cardinal rule of the house. The children know not to disturb me during meetings unless it is an emergency--read someone is bleeding or not breathing (both of which are not beyond the realm of possibility on any given day in the Doyle household). So when 15 minutes into EfM my phone rang, I panicked. It was Boss, "Mama tell SK she has to stop at Walgreens for me to get emergency food. I haven't eaten all day, practice was brutal and Case said there were emergency food things--emergency vitamins--at Walgreens." Not being drawn into their arguments is one of my daily goals (Boss and SK have already begun the separation process and it is heart breaking to watch--they've never fought this much--but that's for another blog), so I said, "tell her I said to just stop it's on the way home, and you be nice." I refrained for the sake of time to remind him about the bleeding/non-breathing rule, and I also pushed the questions of "When did Case become a doctor?" and "Why haven't you eaten all day." to the back of my mind. That was made easier when I reminded myself that at least he was stopping for a legal remedy. I did, however, text SK and ask her to please be patient and not let a fight break out. Her response, "I'm sick of him treating me like crap when he has a hard practice." I seriously almost laughed out loud, but I refrained from responding, "tell me about it." or "I feel your pain." Remember, I'm trying to limit the texts/calls from home, so I just responded, "I'm sorry. Try to be patient." And for the next hour my phone was silent until....
Around 7:20 the phone started blowing up with texts from William. "When are you going to be home?" "I'm stressed about exams and need help." "I need spare binders." Anyone who has had a 9th grade student going through high school exams for the first time can understand why my guilt meter was going strong and I was holding onto the panic cliff with two hands. (There is a very good argument to add exam stress to the bleeding and not breathing list of good reasons to interrupt me) Anyone who has had a 9th grade boy actually asking for help can understand why I had fallen from the cliff, was on the other side of the guilt mountain and making my way back up the next one. He texted me it was math and science he was most worried about--BONUS the lights and music went off in my head--those are SK's strengths. But, I remembered the irritation she was already experiencing so with a bit of pause and remembering that a) I had already asked her to be patient and b) I have recently purchased her quite a few new things (yes, I use bribery when it's necessary) I told him to ask her for help. So with all this swirling through my mind I drove through the dark night and up our driveway bearing said 3 ring binders William needed.
I walked in and only found the girls at the dining room table; they were laughing. I began to exhale. "Where are the boys?" I asked. "Oh Mama," started SK (I sucked that breath right back in), "they're already in bed." "But I have binders for William that he asked me to bring home." I refrained from saying, "that he broke the bleeding/non breathing rule to make sure I brought home." "Mama," continued SK, "He had to go to bed. We spent a long time organizing his Biology notebook, and it wiped him out. We've still got his math and English to go. He was so stressed he went into my room and took my color coded post it notes to use as dividers." (If he crossed the threshold of SK's room without permission, he truly was desperate.) "He was so stressed," she continued, "I couldn't even yell at him. Look at these notebooks; they're disasters. But it's okay we have this week to get him organized." I exhaled again and said a silent prayer asking that her benevolence would continue all week--Chris wasn't home until Friday. I decided it was safe to go upstairs take out my contacts which felt like sandpaper in my eyes and get ready for bed. But Caroline followed me....
As she walked in my room, where I was changing she began with, "Put some clothes on. Grouse." I refrained from reminding her that a) we all have to see her in various states of undress in places like say the dining room and b) that it was indeed my room. "Mama, I can't go to basketball tomorrow. It's dress rehearsal and I just can't miss any of it. I know it's a game but..." The standard Collegiate rule is that games trump rehearsal and rehearsal trumps practice. Just to make certain I texted the athletic director. My level of desperation cannot be described. It was 9:15 pm and I really don't like to bother people at home but these were desperate times in the Doyle household. He verified my understanding but added, "but this time we have allowed some exceptions." Seriously?!?!?! This is not the week for exceptions--I need rules dude! Caroline was pacing and shouting Rachel and Clara Stewart don't have to go to the game. I refrained from saying, "I'm not Rachel's and Clara Stewart's parent." Really refraining from that was pure self preservation as I was at that very moment texting their mothers while trying to ignore the voice in my head that said, "if everyone else jumped off a cliff would you?" (Keep in mind I had already fallen from that cliff.) Everyone was missing the game, so I gave in but reminded Caroline that she had to let the coach know. (I was attempting to teach some sort of responsibility.) Just to highlight the importance of commitment, I added "Caroline they need you; you are the starting center." Caroline, "That's only because I'm tall and have a big butt." I refrained from responding only because I was gagging. "Caroline, you smell awful. Go take a shower." Caroline, "I don't smell; it's just my feet." I refrained from reminding her that her feet were indeed part of her body--who knows where that conversation could have gone?
I headed downstairs for a final check in with SK--"Mama can you sit down and listen to my essays for my Yale application?" As I was trying to pry my eyes open so that I could indeed be the present Mama that I want to be, Caroline came bopping down the stairs and into the room swinging her braid that was on the top of her head singing, "Look at me; I"m a helicopter." I refrained from physically subduing her as the effort to get out of my chair was far more than I could muster and instead said, "Have you already taken a shower?" "No, only my feet smelled so I just washed them." she, at least, honestly replied. She plopped herself down at the table, pulled out her coloring book, and said, "I'm looking for a picture of Cinderella to color. Here's one--oh look, Cindy's got big boobies." "Caroline," I said before the conversation could go from PG to R, "your sister is reading me her essay and short answer questions. Please be quiet."
"So," continued SK seriously, "The first one is about your favorite quote. I put 'Saying no does not make you a failure' which I got from Aunt Ingrid." I was about to say that I thought that was good when she continued perhaps because she thought my feelings might be hurt, "I would have used yours 'Have fun, remember who you are, be true to yourself' but I think of that more as a motto and not just a quote." "I think of that more as Mama's way to tell us what to do." chimed in Caroline. I refrained from saying, "and obviously you follow it because I don't know of anyone who has met you who doesn't remember who you are whether they want to or not." Alas, she wasn't finished, "I hope they have that question when I apply to college. Mine is going to be 'Don't wear your makeup like that; you look like a slut.'" Sarah Katherine and I both refrained from any comment and she moved onto reading me more questions and answers only to be interrupted by Caroline yet again, "Do you really have to know a lot of vocabulary for the SAT? I mean what are you going to use it for in life anyway." I refrained from responding, "to communicate." SK did say, "yes you do and taking Latin really helps." "Well," said Caroline, "Then I'm screwed." "Next question," I said to SK refraining from any engagement whatsoever.
"Name something you've changed your mind about in the last 2 or 3 years." I quickly and I thought rather humorously responded, "_______" (the boyfriend's name). "How am I going to write 25 words about that? That's dumb." Sarah Katherine seriously responded. "Ok," I said, "How about how you've changed your mind about private and public school?" (back story--SK wanted to go to an all girls private Catholic school and we sent her to the public magnet instead. The first year was miserable and now she loves it and has even remarked on two occasions of which I know that she's glad she didn't go to the other school.) That however was clearly not a good answer as she rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah Mama I'll write an essay that says private schools suck and public schools are so much better to Yale--A PRIVATE SCHOOL!" I really wanted to remind her that I hate that s___ word, but I refrained because, well, I was just too tired and clearly not helping at all a fact she could have taken into consideration from the beginning as I neither was accepted to nor even applied to any Ivy league school. "I'm going to text Mason and ask her what she thinks." SK said. Less than 2 minutes later the reply comes "______(boyfriend's name)" I took that as my personal victory and a very good time to exit the room.
As I was leaving I said, "Oh Abby says I should publish my blogs in a book. The money could actually help pay for the therapy ya'll are all going to need." SK, "No! You can't do that. I've already decided I'm going to do that when you die. I've got dibs on that deal." I refrained from saying anything because really how do you respond to the fact that your eldest child is already trying to figure out how to profit from your death. (She already goes around the house and through my jewelery box telling me what she wants when I die. I don't want to encourage her to hasten that time.) I headed up to bed hoping to get a quick call into Chris, read, and lights out. As I was pulling the covers down in bounds Caroline. "I'm going to sleep with you tonight." I pulled both sides of the bed down and refrained from saying anything because really what could be better than your baby wanting to snuggle with you?
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