Maybe there just aren't enough hours in the week for my mom-life AND my school-life. Last weekend I spent about 10 hours studying for a test on Monday. I'll do that again this weekend. And the next. And the next after that. And the next after that one too. Between my classes, I will have at least one test every Monday for the next 12 weeks. Throw in a quiz every Tuesday and Thursday, the fact that I'm away from home (and my son) from 7am to 6pm every Monday through Thursday, and I'm borderline tears. Familial responsibilities consume me as soon as I walk in the door - dinner, dishes, playtime, jammies, brush teeth, storytime, prayers, good night. By 9pm (if I'm lucky enough that Grayson has stayed in his bed), I'm ready for bed myself - not up for pre-treating clothing stains, packing lunches and laying out clothes for the next day, or cracking open a textbook for an hour. I just want to fall into an uninterrupted slumber.
But I don't, because I can't. I want to be the best mom and I want to be the best student, so I do stay outside a bit longer than I should when Grayson wants to swing or play on the slide, and I occasionally leave the dishes in the sink until the next evening. And I often stay up until 10:30 or 11pm, studying for my classes the following day. No television, no pleasure reading. But I'm okay with that, because that's what I choose to do. And Josh has gotten so much better at being done working when it's time to be done. He helped make dinner last night, and he occasionally does the dishes. He makes the bed some mornings, helps Gray pick up his toys before bedtime, and picks him up from day care when I have to catch the later bus home. Josh will probably even let me head to the library tomorrow afternoon for 5-6 uninterrupted hours of studying, even though it means he can't work in the garage or basement. He really is the best husband and father.
Already this morning Grayson has asked me to draw him a butterfly, build a tower with him, and sing his frog to sleep. I love being here for him. I love the way his voice inflects up a bit when he says "Mom" right before he asks me for something. I know there's a time and season for every stage of life, and sometimes I'm bummed I chose to intertwine these two very different seasons into the same two years, but I know he knows I love him, and I'm pretty sure he knows he's my number one guy. He's going to help me try out a zucchini brownie recipe this afternoon, after we go grocery shopping together. He's good about helping me fold the laundry, and he still loves to vacuum, so I'm pretty confident I'll get the things done that I need to, even if it takes a bit longer to do them.
I just needed a minute to get a grip on my responsibilities, my priorities, and how to mesh them together. Breathe in, breathe out. One day at a time. Oh my, I just love that little boy so much. My little boy. No one told me I could manage to love him more every time I see him, but I swear it happens. I look at him and my heart nearly bursts. With joy, with pride, with love. He is so funny, and quirky, and boyish, and tender, and troublesome, and sweet all at once. He truly is the light of my life.