One of the biggest challenges to this relocation for me has been the fact that for much of the week, I'm alone with the kids here while A. goes back to Blackrock to work on closing out his work in that county. He's gone for three or four days (and nights) during the work week and, as I know you will have guessed, this sucks an awful lot.
It's not so much that I'm the sole caretaker for them, it's more that they look to me for entertainment and, well, I just don't do that as well as A. does. This is mostly a problem for Cubby, of course, because he's the oldest and the most enthused about the things that A. does with them. Things like fishing or exploring or helping them build forts. I'm not likely to do these things even if I didn't have a 20-month-old child to haul around, but I'm definitely not going to do them while hauling said child.
A. leaves Jack behind with me when he takes Cubby and Charlie out for adventure. I don't have that luxury, and so I am the Worst Mom Ever.
Cubby spends a lot of time mad at me because I won't take him somewhere. Charlie spends a lot of time mad at me because, well, because he's Charlie. Jack doesn't spend too much time mad at me, because he's still a little young for that, but he is in an unfortunate throwing and hitting phase, as well as a waking-up-screaming-from-naps phase.
Someone is always screaming or crying. Sometimes it's me.
All this to say that I feel a little stressed out pretty much all the time and I feel like I should be doing something to make this easier, but I really don't know what.
I take them somewhere almost every day--the pool or the playground or the library--which sometimes seems more trouble than it's worth, what with Jack's frequent need to sleep, Charlie's frequent meltdowns, and Cubby's frequent sulking because wherever we go isn't as fun as fishing with Daddy.
And then we get home and everyone's hungry and I have to make something for dinner with three kids screaming and crying and throwing things down the stairs and WOW, DID I MENTION THIS SUCKS AN AWFUL LOT?
I really do not think this is going to rank right up there as a fond time in my memory. I feel like I'm somehow failing, but then I remember that I'm still making yogurt and bread, doing laundry, sweeping the floor multiple times a day, reading hundreds of pages of books over and over and OVER (another phase Jack is in, which is at least significantly less destructive than pounding on the walls with wooden toys), walking to the neighbor's house to feed the chickens, taking everyone to run on the nearby dirt road, stopping for ice cream sometimes, and in general doing the best I can.
Sure will be glad when this transition is over, though.