Are we the only ones?

DH and I saw each other for about 15 minutes this afternoon. It was a lovely little date. And we had a great visit. About our "normal" state of chaos.

I've had a nasty cold the past week or so, and it's really done a number on me - I think the cold medicine has made me particularly panicky about dumb stuff. Stuff like Lillian's special bag, among much other stuff. Poor DH must be beyond frustrated with me at this point.

On Thursday when we picked up the girls from preschool, Lillian came out with a canvas bag. I had her bring it back to her teacher to ask if it was supposed to be left there. The teacher said it was a Sharing Bag or something like that and that it was mentioned in the newsletter. Lillian was expected to bring it back on Tuesday.

This weekend, I dug through all kinds of papers and artwork and newsletters and junk mail, but to no avail. No newsletter explaining this bag. So I sent the teacher an email, asking for more specifics. Do we need to bring it back with stuff to share (i.e. snacks) or something of Lillian's to share for a Show and Tell type of thing? No response. And of course, the newsletter section of the school website is empty. I finally gave in and bought a big pack of snacks to bring incognito in case that's what's needed. And I helped Lillian pick out a special toy to share. Wonder how it will go...

I mentioned all this to DH this afternoon and he chuckled, commenting that the teacher would understand - life with preschoolers is chaotic. Then I pointed out that our life is way more chaotic than most, which is why I'm becoming neurotic in so many ways. He questioned me. Duh.

I work full-time days with a workload that could easily take at least 80 hours a week to fulfill. The kids are shuttled between daycare and school. I raise them and have all the house duties on my shoulders alone in the evenings. He works an evening job for 40 hours a week, and spends his daytime hours trying to start his contracting company here in a new community, as well as finish up our basement (which I'm convinced will never be fully complete, but that's another post). We still haven't moved into half our house, which means our three-stall garage is still full of boxes and I'm still parking outside. In our freetime, I'm having foot surgery and colds and other dumb stuff, trying to find some "normal."

We then talked about how almost all the other preschool kids are dropped off by moms in workout clothes and big fancy SUVs, clearly not ladies headed for the office. No wonder they always seem so calm and slow-moving. And no wonder we always seem to be on the run. But I guess it's par for the course. It's the decision I make each night - to read and work puzzles with the kids, to enforce bedtime routines and ensure we all say prayers - instead of plunking the kids in front of a TV and working on unpacking and organizing. It's a conscious decision, and though there's some sacrifice of sanity, I do deep down believe we're going in the right direction.

But man... is there hope? Will we ever get to be just a couple of 40-hour/week workers on the same schedule, eating as a family and visiting without one of us having to be home on sick leave in order to do it? Some day...