where’s the love, man?

[knock knock]  Anyone home?  Hey, Kool-Aid?  Are you there?  Where is she?  Anyone know where Kool-Aid is?

I have been wallowing in self-pity, that’s where.  See, Trey is out of town and I’m left to do all the work two parents normally are able to share.  It’s not like he hasn’t traveled for work before.  It’s not like I haven’t done the “single parent” thing before.  I’ve done it several times over the course of the last 6 years.  No, many times.  More than I care to remember.
Sometimes it’s a weekend, sometimes it’s a week, sometimes it’s two weeks, but every time it gets harder.
Maybe it’s the age of the kids.  6 and just-about 3.  They keep me busy; they keep the house messy – oh, wait, no that’s me.  But they help keep it messy.  And I’m forever trying to negotiate peace treaties.  After this, I think I could help the Israelites and the Palestinians strike a permanent peace accord – surely that would be easier than getting those two siblings to get along.
I’m wallowing in self-pity because I can.  Poor-poor me.  I really shouldn’t be, though.  There are others who are worse off than me, for sure.  I have a roof over my head, food in the kitchen and a car to get me where I need to go.  Also, I have friends that love me and are willing to help.  Why is it so hard to ask for help?  A dear friend and I were talking on Saturday and she told me “When you don’t ask for help, you rob someone of the opportunity to help you.”
When you don’t ask for help, you rob someone of the opportunity to help you. 
Strong statement, that.  Yeah, I have smart friends.  I should listen to them.
So, I’m asking for help.  Accountability from some of you readers out there.  Have I cleaned the computer desk yet?  How about picked up the toys?  More importantly, have I read to Little Man today or is he plopped in front of the one-eyed babysitter?  Have I played Little Pet Shop with Monkey today?  Or helped her with her homework?  What about those leaves that are scattered like so many thoughts out in the front yard?
Imagine how happy those kids would be if I raked up a great big pile for them to play in. 
Imagine how much fun it’ll be for me to watch those kids scatter the leaves that I worked so hard to put in a pile for them.  
They might actually get along… for about 5 minutes until one jumps in the pile before the other one and a fight ensues because the pile is no longer there and there are no more leaves to jump in because big sister or little brother spread them all out again and now there’s just no more fun to be had even though there are a bazillion trillion leaves out there that just need to be scooped back up and tossed into the air.
I think I should head to Israel.

9 thoughts on “where’s the love, man?

  1. The last time I responded to your call for help, I ended up writing your blog for ya..I’v got to choose my words carefully here. 🙂 just kidding.

    I want to tell you that just hang on, once they get 13 and 10 it gets better. They will start to get along, but I can’t lie to you like that.

    Just…enjoy the time…the messes will be there 20 years from now. It sounds like you answered your own “call for help” with the leaves project. Go with it.


  2. Love the post. I have 3 boys, 6, 4 and 2. I like to call it negotiating with terrorists. Especially when they all defend each other against punishment. Suddenly brothers aren’t so bad. :). Raking the leaves into a pile makes me want to leave work now and go home and do it. The boys would love it and I think I would too. Thanks for a great idea.
    Margaret Chaidez

  3. @Scott – no worries, I won’t be drafting anyone any more. My dad tells me that it never gets any easier, just different.

    @Margaret – thanks for visiting! I can’t imagine having 3 boys – one is enough and so completely different from girls!

    Now, if only I could find the time/energy to go rake those bazillion trillion leaves for the kids, and do it before the rains come…

  4. You know, I just read a post over at Havi’s that ties in with this!

    Mine are 8 and 4 and they are 100% boys. They burp, fart on each other, wipe boogers on the couch, can tear up a room in 2.5 seconds flat, and cover for each other like their lives depended on it, which it often does.

    I feel your pain, girl.

  5. Hi Jamie,
    At least they aren’t screaming at each other! One of these days I’m swear I’m going to end up with a yardstick and hold it like a samurai warrior….

    What’s Havi’s blog? I don’t think I’ve been over there.

  6. Know what this means? That we BOTH take up the offer for help on Saturday, drop them off with their friends and we go to get pedis and LUNCH. Sound good?

    I need it, too. I’m wallowing without the sibling rivalry.

  7. Hysterical..loved the end with Israel–had to laugh outloud…Hope u guys got to do pedis and lunch today………Keep up the excellent writing. dgl

  8. @ dgl – no, we actually went shopping instead. Got some of Little Man’s gifts taken care of. It was a good break, for sure.

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