undone by Kindergarten homework

I had a morning. Jake had an orthodontist appointment, Kaleb hadn't finished his homework yet, Kendell was going to work with someone else so I needed to take Haley to school. I left explicit, direct instructions: while I'm taking Haley to school, I asked Jake to unload the dishwasher and Nathan to please please please help Kaleb with his homework.

When I got home, Nathan was downstairs looking for his favorite socks, Kaleb was trying to turn the TV on (even though he knows the no-tv-before-10:00-in-the-morning rule very, very well), and Jake was eating a bagel. And I might have lost it just a little bit. Even as I lost it, though, I was blaming myself: if I were a capable mother, Nathan's favorite socks would be folded neatly in his drawer, Kaleb would have done his homework last night, and I would have cleaned the kitchen before I went to bed.

Sock and bagels and dishwashers aside, though, what really pushed me over the edge was Kaleb's homework. Doing it under the deadline of the 8:15 deadline was excruciating. Feeling the overwhelming anxiety and guilt as I helped him struggle through all the ways you can add to ten, and reminded him that he does, really, know how to count by 2's, and taught him for the 2,873rd time to double the number and then add 1—it was almost more than I could deal with without turning into a raving, screaming lunatic.

All the while, I'm fighting this internal battle in my head. I know  he is intelligent. I know that the school's curriculum is asking too much of kindergarteners. But I also know I don't have another alternative; I think the public school my kids should be going to is dismal.*  I live in Utah, where only lip service is paid to education, so I don't have many choices. I can't find a happy medium. My sister-in-law's son, who is also in Kaleb's class, doesn't struggle like Kaleb does. I hate that I'm comparing them anyway because I know it is wrong and doesn't help anything and doesn't matter anyway. It feels like the most precipitous thing in the world that he can't remember that 3+7=10, even though we've done that same problem 1,000s of times. It also feels like the most ridiculous thing to worry about with a five-year-old.

We managed to finish without me turning into that complete and raving lunatic. But I'm still feeling overwhelmed with my life. I think it started on Saturday, when one of my co-workers confronted me over something she thought I did that I don't think I did, and it left me feeling like my one refuge—the place I went where no one criticized me, where I wasn't always failing—was destroyed. Then I came home and had an argument with Kendell, and we went to bed mad. You know why you shouldn't go to bed mad? It's not for any of those marriage-improvement reasons. It's because you toss and turn all night and have anxiety dreams instead of actually getting any rest.

Then there was Haley's fashion board application to finish, and her student-council posters to worry over (even though her "other mom"—her best friend's mom—who is way more accomplished and functional than I am, did most of the worrying), and conference to watch. There was laundry to be done. I still haven't got Nathan signed up for baseball yet. There's a pile of clean clothes to fold and put away, and I need to clean the van out as its a disaster of hidden Easter-basket presents, a bag of stuff I need to return to Target, fingerprints and dried mud and bleary windows, not to mention the 16 library books tossed into the mix. I don't know what to make for dinner tonight, my crafty table is a complete disaster, the upstairs needs to be vacuumed. I need to go to the post office, write a letter again to my credit-card company, and find the picture book I swear I already returned.

"I think you need a vacation," my inner self says. A vacation! Come on. Do you know how stressful vacations are?

"OK, where else is relaxing? What about...church!" my brilliant inner self proclaims. Oh, yes, church. That's always a peaceful experience. Once I've managed the 27 "I don't want to go to church" arguments I'm completely annoyed by the time I get there, and then everyone complains,whines, and wiggles through sacrament meeting. (Aren't they all old enough to just sit there quietly?) Then I teach my class, which sometimes, ok, makes me feel better but usually leaves me feeling inadequate beyond measure, and then there's Relief Society which I want to love, and I do love, but reminds me, mostly, of how I am failing at religious matters as well.

Now my inner self is out of suggestions, it's time to dash off to the orthodontist, Kaleb can't remember where he put his backpack (the one I just put his homework and snack in three minutes ago), and Jake is just moseying. Not hurrying at all.

I need a good run.

Oh, yes, running! Exercising! Eating a healthy diet! All of those things I should be doing. But I don't want to eat healthily right now. I want to scarf down extra-dark Lindt truffle balls and drink cherry Coke. I haven't figured out how to work running into my schedule, without getting up at six on the mornings I don't get up at five to go to spin. And the only reason I make it to the early spin class is because my friend Jamie helps me. There's no one waiting for me to go running, so when the alarm goes off I ignore it and go back to sleep for another hour.

Sleep: that's it. That's the only place the overwhelmed feeling goes away. (Except for when I'm too anxious to sleep well, and then it doesn't.) Maybe that is why I feel tired all day: because I want to go back to the place where everything just stops. Seriously: the first thing i think, when I get out of bed, is "can I work a nap into my day?" and, quite often, horrid and failure-choked and guilty as it makes me feel, sometimes I do work a nap into my day. It doesn't really help, though, because I'm still constantly thinking about how tired I am.

And even, even as I'm writing this, the internal debate goes on. "You're just feeling sorry for yourself. You chose this life. Why are you complaining?" Because, internal self, I need to complain. because even though I am blessed and I have enough and I love my children and only want them to be happy, right now I'm over the edge. I've jumped off the bridge (to borrow Kendell's phrase). I'm on the crazy side of my pendulum. And my inner self is just kooky enough that it can't give me what i really, really need, not sleep or exercise or more time or better organization or less complacent laziness, but just a voice. Just some voice telling me I am doing OK and that everything will work out in the end. That I'm not ruining everything.

Only, that voice doesn't speak up. And that is why, today, I am undone by Kindergarten homework.

*Please note that if you are one of my friends whose children happen to go to this school, my unhappiness with it is not a judgement over you not being unhappy with it. I just couldn't deal with it anymore, and so have undergone the complicated carpool schedule and neighborhood ostracization that comes along with not sending my kids to that school. It is, in fact, a testament to what you can deal with and I cannot. You, dear friend, are a better mother than I am.

Comments

[heidikins]

*Hugs*

I'm sorry things are so crazy-hectic, hope something works it's way up to Awesome soon.

xox

[Pat Passamonte]

Hi Amy,
So sorry you are having such a hard time right now. As they say, this too shall pass. My mantra when my kids were younger was "it's a phase, it's a phase...". And truly, it is. Things WILL get better, I promise. Have a wonderful day, and try to be kinder to yourself.

[lucy]

Those undone moments are every bit as real as the great ones and I don't think it's at all inappropriate to acknowledge them. It sounds like a rough morning. It you'll take it as a perk, I think it provided some material for an interesting blog post. Because, really what if our supposed solace isn't helping when we feel out of balance?

[Wendy]

Went to bed tonight, then got back up again, because sleep is eluding me (extreme sense of emptiness taking hold of my brain and refusing to let go - disillisionment with four and a half years of living in this town and still not a single friend). For what it is worth, it was cathartic for me to read that someone else is feeling overwhelmed and frustrated and out of balance with life.

[Lilly]

I'll go run with you! That's when I am [supposed] to be getting up to run too, but haven't quit found the motivation to go out in the cold.

[Jamie]

uggghhh I hate days like that and then... AND THEN... I went and stood you up this morning. You had a very overwhelming day. those are the days where I crawl into bed and cry. I'm sorry. love you!

(and I have a secret for you... shhh... you don't have to be a perfect mom because there really is no such thing. you just do the best you can and sometimes you get frustrated with them and maybe you even yell and maybe you even dump the silverware drawer out on the floor for a little shock and awe (oh wait that was me) but they'll survive because from all I know about you there are more times that you sew them the perfect costume, read to them, hug them, color extensions for them, cook them fabulous dinners, teach them to like new things, make them rolls, makes them cookies, sew them quilts, teach them broken things can be mended and just need to be looked at with new eyes and ...... )

show your inner voice that list. :)