Pancakes; a love story

There is a general air of affection around my house.  Something I am grateful for especially on those days where everyone really just wants to scream at each other and find some space from one another before an unwelcome WWF show comes to our very own house.

Aaron coaches basketball during the winters and has, in fact, since we have been married.  I suppose that makes me a coach's wife. It was not so hard (specifically the coaching) when we lived in Maine because I coached, too and we were working at a boarding school where we were wrapped in a protective community-(whether for better or worse, depended on the day), so support was available when needed.  But since living in SLC, it has been extremely hard for me.  Something I have struggled with every winter since we have lived here.

Aaron and I are both extremely tired and overworked during this season in our lives, and we experience our hardship largely alone due to our schedules.  He is on his feet all day teaching, then goes straight to basketball practice for 3 hours, coming home nearly 12 hours after stepping out the front door.  I struggle for many reasons; the first, and most obvious is that it leaves me to do everything for the household (and I say this in the most loving sense I could mean that): get the kids breakfast, dress them, wrangle them into the car, oh...and wait- that's right, I need to pack them a super healthy lunch and pack up the school bag, then drop them off.

Now work...ahh, it's quiet and peaceful here and I sneak in a couple of deep breaths before getting lost in work..."SHIT!"  I say in my head as I realize I have 5 minutes to get across town to get the boys by 5pm.  So, I rush out of work to get the boys on-time, (though I am 10 minutes late).  Surrender my train of thought on that important email I was sending out...get the boys from school.

Wait, Capoeira is in five minutes back on the other side of town. "Here B, (I throw him the Capoeira uniform after rushing inside the house to let the dogs out and feed them) change in the car", I say. We get to Capoeira 10 minutes late, I think, "Well, we live on the other side of town, no point in going home...no errands to run.  I think Cooper and I should just stay.  Besides, it's so much fun to watch."  So we do, and then I spend the whole time wrangling (again, remember this morning?), Cooper.  Thank goodness Capoeira is over--FOR ME--sorry, Brayden, but Cooper was really stressing me out.  I wink in my mind.  (I do recognize there are some inefficiencies in my planning of the days when Capoeira is happening for B.  "Why not throw the uniform in the car?  Or leave work on time to not rush?  Why not both?"  Details, details.  I am working on that piece, too.  But baby steps.

Now heading home, "I hungry," Cooper yells in the most obnoxiously, assertive way possible, nearly the whole way home.  Already feeling frazzled when we get in the door, before the door even shuts, Cooper yanks my shirt and looks up at me with those amazing round, puppy dog eyes, "Me, hungry mama," this time a tenderness, as if he knows I am overwhelmed, but needs to remind me he is REALLY hungry.  He doesn't stop yanking.

Then, not seconds later, Brayden: "Mom, can I have my chocolate?  Mom, what are we having for dinner?  Mom I can't find my allosaurus; can you help me find my allosaurus."

I step back, and I yell.  I yell at both the boys explaining to them all the things I just wrote above; and I tell them I am overwhelmed.  I have been going a mile a minute.  I say, "I need you both to give me a moment.  During the winter when Dad is gone; I am doing this all alone.  I don't have back-up when I need some help.  So I need you to help, (my voice calming from a yell) and YOU need to give me some space before the ugly green monster- (whom we all blame our misbehavior's on)- comes out in full effect."

They both acknowledge my request and quietly go downstairs to play in the basement for a bit.  I breathe, and then again.  Feeling the tension I held in my throat...release.  I don't feel like yelling anymore; and I miss Aaron.  I want a hug; his hug...now.

I collect myself and finish the evening off with a fabulously nutritious Kale Salad over Quinoa sprinkled with Sunflower seeds and Red bell peppers, and I feel good. I am comforted knowing I just packed my guys full of goodness- food made with love. Food that will help their little bodies grow stronger.  The rest of the night is smooth, and happy- full of connection and laughter.

Smooth sailing right?  Ha!  And just moments before they slumber...Coop gets up from his frog potty.  I think to myself, "Really, did you seriously just drop that bomb in your toilet I now must clean out?", while saying aloud, "Yay Coop!  Way to go poop in your potty!"  I feel my shoulders drop with a sigh, and I trip over a dinosaur. I just want to sit down and be done for the day; well, with my munchkins-I still have two more hours of work emails to send out, but at least it is quiet work.  Only five more minutes until freedom.  Then it's bedtime.  They are SO beautiful when they sleep!  And so I finally sit, (this time on Batman).  :)

(Note: this summary of a day did not even touch the laundry, bills, or grocery store runs...and the upkeep of a house filled with two active boys...a small house at that!)

I know (logically) that these are the responsibilities our choices in life have given us; that neither Aaron or I are at fault for our current situation and the feelings it brings about, but (emotionally) I feel like a single mom a lot of days (during the winter), and that makes me feel very alone and resentful; or at least it did the past several years.

This year I am trying something new: thinking of Aaron with compassion in my heart.  Compassion for the exhaustion he experiences from his long days as an 8th grade teacher, and a coach.  Compassion- because this year I can let myself see how heart broken he is that he is not spending more time with us.  Compassion- because I TRUST that he is doing the absolute best that he can right now; we both are!

It is not like he's on vacation- sheesh...how selfish my perspective from years before was.  Although, I would argue this is truly an innocent selfishness; one we are all capable of feeling, perhaps even an instinctual one.  But I do see this year, how important it is that I recognize this behavior in myself and with this awareness, change my practices.  And so I do...SO FAR...this season.

This year I am not mad and resentful he is not here.  Instead I am grateful for my family and all the love between us, also super bummed and a little heart broken myself, knowing that I have to wait so long to embrace Aaron each day; to share with him my day, and hear about his.  And now when he arrives home, I hold him...and drink him in as deeply as I can so that maybe I can keep him with me longer tomorrow.  Third year is a charm, (though it is our fourth in SLC); and we reconnect.  We remember what it feels like to fall in love.

Reminder to self: (come back here when you need to)- Remember everything is always going to be okay.  Even when it's not.  Our roots are happy and strong...grounded.  Like the Ferris Wheel, we all go around and round, passing different emotional points on our unique rides, fluidly.  Steadily.  Remembering the wheel always spins back around and we won't be in this 'moment' for long.

And...SO, back to the pancakes.  This morning, Brayden, Cooper and I made delicious, fresh berry pancakes.  Brayden poured the batter in the pan, I flipped the pancakes with moral support (and coaching) from Brayden, and Cooper set the table. 

Aaron is out of town for basketball, but he will return tonight and I am so excited.  I was doing laundry this morning and caught his scent as I threw his shirt into the washer; (my favorite that he wears-one that is so simple and manly, yet gently shapes to the curves of his body), and pulled it back out.  I then brought it to meet my face, and inhaled.  A smile grew across my face, and I turned and  double stepped  upstairs to ask the boys if they wanted to make some yummy pancakes.  "Yes, Yes, Yes!" they chirped, bouncing happily up and down.

And so we did; and it was just what we all needed.  :)