It's For the Children (I Swear)

After the crazy auction busy-ness of the last week, I decided that today would be all about being Fun Mom. That Man is in Hollywood for the week (surely spotting a variety of reality TV stars that will have me in a tizzy), so the timing was right for us four to re-bond. I promised them an awesome day out, so after a little tidying up (as always, bribery worked), the house was squared away, vacuumed even, and we loaded out.

Stopped by a few friends' houses, had a "fancy" lunch (at the Mall) and hit the movies for "Horton Hears a Who." I admit to getting a little post-feast sleepy, but there were fine parts to the flick, cute ones and funny ones and all three of those kids were completely engrossed -- no kicking of the seats in front of them, no begging for treats, all good. At one point in the movie, a mob is out for Horton (who they perceive as a threat to the community belief system) and the jungle animals are chanting in G-rated violent fury, "It's for the children! For the children!"

I got the joke -- and after all the ways the auction affected me and my family, I wonder if maybe the joke was intended for me.

I took my kids out today because I have virtually neglected them for a week (or more, dare I say). I covered their basic needs -- mac and cheese, sleep, boo-boo kissing -- but more often than not, I was asking them to wait, to hold on, clamoring for ONE MORE MINUTE. The Giant Four Year Old sees papers on the counter, decides not to draw on them, and says to the air, "Fer da auction" but hours later, while his mom is on the phone (again), uses a pencil to decimate an entire cabinet door. B awakes me on the day of the event with "Happy last day of the auction!" which I know she is saying to the both of us. R does her best to do her best because she is a lay-low kinda girl and it seems sensible for her not to rile me now. These little moments, upsetting at best, kicked off the mantra for me: this is all for them, this is "FOR THE CHILDREN."

And I know it is, I do.

So when I skipped folding laundry for 10 days straight, and when That Man gently reminded me that all we had to eat was hard-boiled Easter eggs (and only pink ones), I took it with the "it's all gonna be worth it and I'll be back to normal when it's over" attitude. As if normally, there is always a healthy nutritious meal on the table, never a washing machine mildewing clothes that someone has forgotten to dry, always well-behaved children singing songs in a circle with a well-meaning Mother who has just finished making their clothes out of old curtains and tidied up the flash cards she created from recycled cereal boxes.

At lunch today, each of them in such delighted delight to be there with just me (and with cloth napkins to boot: ooh la la, and with a movie in a movie theater in their future), I felt so entirely redeemed. Maybe I was right! Maybe now that the auction was over, I would return to the former self I figured must be lurking somewhere. Maybe I was the mom I imagined I was when I'm not doing all this other stuff.

Then B said, "Mommy, you have no meetings this week!", and I lied with an emphatic yes, yes, isn't that great (as it seemed the wrong time to bring up the one I did have) and, all excited about this good news, R chimed in with, "Now you can just listen about presidents and look at the computer!"

Oh! Yes! THAT.

Point taken.