It's Snow Problem

Well, apparently it takes a snowstorm to get me to post. Twelve and a half inches fell on Indy yesterday and I've got the school closings to prove it. But unlike my last post, where I seemed all oh-my-gosh-I-can-hardly-stand-to-be-cooped-up-with-little-people, I wanted to add something brighter to this space. Something that says, "I like being with me kids. Really. And I'm so glad I got to spend 2+ years at home with them without the worry and stress that comes with outside employment." So, here we go.

This morning, as I saw Q's school name go scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen, I crawled back into bed and decided that the first remote check of e-mail and voicemail could wait another 30 minutes or so. And a few bleary-eyed minutes later, it was feeling like the old days again. When Keira woke up (thanks to Mr. Q-isn't-for-Quiet), she sleepily asked to eat "beck-fist" in her PJs. Usually, Monday through Friday, my response is a kind and gentle not-today-we-have-to-get-to-school/work/preschool/all of the above. But today, I said yes. Once we hit the kitchen, as I sneak in a e-mail/voice-mail check, Keira rummaged through the freezer to find her waffles and plopped them down by the toaster. This part...not so much like the old days (where I lovingly put the waffles by the toaster). But nonetheless, I got a kick out of her 3-year old self-sufficiency. And at the same time, I managed to feel a twinge of guilt - - couldn't I have just waited until after the waffles to check e-mail? Some mom I am.

But you know what? She didn't mind one bit. In fact, she was very proud of herself. When I told her what a great helper she was, she did a monkey dance around the kitchen. Keira clearly wasn't thinking that she had a lame-o corporate mom who was more worried about teleconferences than her daughter's nutrition. (At least I hope not!) She seemed to be thinking, "Aha! I got to do something for myself! And I did it! I can do it! Yea, me!!"

And then I thought, OK- so you really can't have it all (this I've figured out over the last few months), but you don't have to blame yourself for every little thing. For all those times I've feel like a bad mom for one reason or other (like going back to work, for a big one!), the real opinion that matters is that of the kids. You know, no harm - no foul. If they don't perceive it as bad, I don't have to either. I'll have plenty of other things to beat myself up over the coming years, I might as well give myself a break where I can.

So Miss K - have at it. Soon you'll be making your own breakfast and signing your own permission slips, all in the time it takes me to reply to voice-mail.

Besides, she's got management written all over her, don't you think?