The Motherhood of the Flying Pants

Who says resolutions are for January? Pshaw!

1) I resolve to shower well before noon on weekday mornings.

In my defense, it's not like I'm layin' around eatin' bon bons all day. I just get wrapped up in work in the morning and find myself rushing to dress around mid-day before I leave the house.

2) I resolve to plan and carry-out some preschool type activities with my child every day--preferably in the morning, after I've showered. And, as a healthy byproduct, allow him less screen time.

We've been discussing preschool for the child for next year and I'm torn, as is he. I was resolved just to do it, but he soooo doesn't want to and I'm not sure I'm up for dropping off an unwilling, screaming child at preschool, and to pay for the pleasure. I think we'll try the home preschool thing for a while and see if that either softens him up to the idea, or is just sufficient.

3) I resolve to control my work hours, rather than let my job control my life. I will set some boundaries on my "work hours" and within reason, work during those hours and not feel bad about stepping away from the computer when my work hours are done.

The beauty of working from home is the flexibility--I can usually arrange my hours as I desire. The benefit to my employer is my near constant availability. The downside is the constant presence in my life. It's hard to turn it off and step away when it's always there and there's always a lot to do.

4) I resolve to not just get 6-8 hours of sleep every night, but to go to bed at a decent time--I'm shooting for 10 pm or earlier.

It all starts here. If I go to bed after midnight, not only am I tired and cranky and impatient with my children the next day, but I'm unable to get up early enough to accomplish my designated work hours before everyone wakes up, which of course bleeds work into every waking hour and pushes out time with my children and increases screen time . . . see where my life has been going?

5) I resolve to be more patient with my children--particularly the one who requires more patience. I resolve not to engage him in his battles. Or, if I find my patience has fled and I'm engaging him, I resolve to give myself a time out.

Case in point. The other morning. It was all going well. I got up early, worked for a while, woke up Ethan. Made his lunch and his breakfast. We read scriptures, prayed, read some Star wars. There was just enough time to dress and practice a bit for his recital tonight (unless of course, there ensued a clothing fit). There ensued a clothing fit. It was not pretty and I am not proud of it (except perhaps the part that I managed not to beat the child). He baited me and I engaged. It ended with me tossing, (with some aggravation) several pairs of pants at him (none of which were apparently good enough) through his yelling and demanding and accusing all the while the bus was drawing nearer. After the flying pants mom-tantrum, I removed myself from the downward spiraling situation. I told my husband he needed to get up and deal with it. Which he did, while I curled up in my bed and tried not to listen to my child crying downstairs. I calmed down more or less and managed to walk the child out to the bus stop under the dire warning of "do not say anything or I will go back inside." Then of course he has to tell me he loves me as he boards the bus and I feel like such a cad and a child myself. Why, oh why does he get my goat so? And what kind of idiot mother engages in verbal sparring with a 7-year-old? And here I thought he was being irrational.

That's it. That's all I got for now. I'll let you know how my resolutions go (well, if they go well I'll let you know.)