Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Just Five Minutes

I'm writing you this from the spare room, where I am hiding. You know the spare room? The one filled with all of my convention stuff and not a few boxes that I have yet to unpack? That one. I'm hiding here, because they won't think to look for me in here of all places. I am typing amid the corsets and the PVC pipe and the books and who knows what is in that bag and why I felt I had to keep it, because of them.

I hesitate to write about them. As soon as I even begin to think what I'm about to write, let alone say or type it, the guilt starts. "Didn't you WANT primary custody?" "Aren't you GRATEFUL to have this time with them?" Yes. I did. I do. I am. So grateful. These kids are my absolute heart. I love hanging out with them. But sometimes, you just need five  minutes.

"Are you saying you don't enjoy your children?"

Let me tell you about my day. It began with a trip to the Harry Potty. You know, the toilet under the stairs. I would like to point out that my children were all asleep when I got up to go there. And yet, somehow, the sound of me settling onto the seat of the Sorcerer's Throne was enough to roust them to wakefulness. And immediate need. They came in turn, opening the door and wanting something that I could literally do nothing about at that moment, being indisposed as I was. I pointed this out to them and they responded with the idea that they'd each only bothered me once. Which is true, but one times four subtracted from the time of one urination and, well, you do the math.

Mistress must not go to Harry Potty.

Then, the day really got going. You see, my oldest son wanted me to draw Yokai characters for him, and I was so happy to do so. He decided to keep me company in my task by singing the theme song for every Yokai for me while I did so. Every. Freaking. One.

Then there's my darling six year old. He knows I like "weird" drinks. And I do. Orange Dr. Pepper? One of my favorites. Chocolate milk and root beer? Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it. Apple and orange juice mixed? I'll take two. So, he lovingly mixed me up a weird drink. He brought it to me, beaming with pride. It looked. .. chunky. You see, he'd seen on a cooking show that we'd watched together that people like savory and sweet together, so he'd enhanced a glass of Kool-Aid. .. with parmesan. Then he sat there watching while I drank. Every. Drop.

Going down the line, there's my four year old. Darling little Fabio. Fabio did not want macaroni and cheese for lunch. He wanted cereal. Not just any cereal. A very specific kind. With a very specific milk level. After nagging me for a solid 20 minutes, he was staving, didn't I know, I poured him his cereal. An hour later, I found this.

He'd eaten three bites. Max. 

We cannot forget the girl child in all of this. While generally the best-behaved out of the bunch, it was she that ultimately led me into hiding. You see, she doesn't believe that she is a child. When I send the other children out of the room for grown up talk, she will help me usher them out and then stay. Hovering. Then pouts when I send her out, too. When I say that something is for grown ups, she will nod sagely, then expect to participate. So, it only makes sense that when I call all of the kids together and tell them that I intend to go an entire day without a child nagging me about tech, and that I needed just a couple minutes without a child asking me for something, she hugged me, patted my shoulder, then proceeded to pepper me with requests every 30 seconds for a solid ten  minutes. Because, don't I know, she's not a kid. 

"Those pesky kids, always nagging you about tech."

I love them. I love my time with them. I understand they are feeling a little anxious about life right now, and I want to be the one to assuage their fears. When the time comes to begin sharing, it will be a dagger to my heart, but sometimes, you just need to hide for a couple of  minutes. For sanity's sake. Would anyone be willing to smuggle me some chocolate? 

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