My husband, Justin came to me this week with the most long-time-married Valentine thoughts ever.
“So…..Do you want to go out for Valentine’s Day, or stay in for Valentine’s Day,
or do nothing at all?
Should we do something the day after, instead, when it’s not busy,
or
do you really just want me to not be asking you any of this,
and just somehow know what you want like a mind-reader, and take action all on my own?
Whatever you want.
Just let me know.”
As you can imagine, that really set the mood.
Practically a Hallmark card.
I told him I would think about it,
but only because my real answer to what I want for Valentine’s Day,
and every single holiday, actually,
is for a long chunk of time where no one asks me for anything.
My true language of love.
It’s not that I want to be alone.
I really don’t even like being alone.
I love and thoroughly enjoy my family.
It’s just that I’d love a solid string of moments where I am not asked to peel a Cutie,
or get slime out of Barbie hair,
or to help wrangle the dog because she’s eating out of the litter box again.
Like so many other mothers,
I haven’t even been allowed to pee without being barraged with requests since the year 2000,
when my first daughter learned to walk, and learned to reach a handle.
Also,
if there is one thing I’ve seen proof of on repeat since moving into a house with one bathroom, it is that the lack of bathroom privacy in motherhood does not end with toddlers like they want you to believe.
Lately it has become obvious that if I want to use the bathroom without 3 kids and 2 dogs attempting to climb onto my lap like they are attempting a cheerleading pyramid,
I have to not only close, but lock the door, and breathe very shallowly.
I would be willing to bet that this kind of scene was sole inspiration for the movie
“A Quiet Place.”
The other day I was wise, and did lock the door, and you would have thought I had been trapped in a mine the way my 12 year old reacted.
My 12 year old whose life has been 70% made up of me asking her to calm down.
CHLOE: *immediately banging on the door*
“Mama? Mama?! What are you doing in there?!”
ME: “Uh…..I’m going to the BATHROOM.
That is what bathrooms are for.”
CHLOE: *panicked voice*
“Are you sure you’re OK?!”
I know she’s fighting back shrieking,
“SPEAK TO ME, MAMA!!!”
ME: “Yes. I am completely fine.”
I heard her walk away only to realize she had just gone in to alert Justin.
CHLOE: “Daddy, Mama’s in the bathroom with the door locked. *cracking voice*
Is she OK?!”
JUSTIN: “Chloe, she’s just using the restroom alone.”
PAIGE: *suddenly appearing*
“Wait. Mama’s in dere wif da door LOCKED?!
Is she OK?!”
Oh, for the love.
The other night I got out with my girlfriend Ori.
Only one of maybe 2 dinner dates we have had in 4 years of friendship.
Our table for two was seated directly beside a large, full table, teaming with people of all ages, including several kids.
It felt foreign to sit and talk under low, soothing light without our own children in tow.
As we ate, and their table got up to leave,
a man from the group came to us, and strangely said,
“I hope my children didn’t bother you at all.”
“Bother us?” I asked, confused.
I had barely noticed them, they were so well-behaved.
“Sir, I have four daughters,” I said.
“The only thing I noticed about your kids is that none of them asked me how many more bites they had to take.”
I know all of their requests are completely out of love, and trust of my care;
From my husband’s Valentine inquiry
to my kids always wanting me for something.
It’s just that sometimes we all need a break.
I fantasize about hot tubs.
I’d like someone to peel ME a Cutie for a change.
Finally feeling better from my recent illness,
I decided to take a walk yesterday.
I thought some fresh air would do me good.
I stepped from my house squinting at the sunlight that felt foreign like
The Great Mole Woman of Sebastopol,
and I set out on my way only to notice my two cats clawing their way over fences to follow me.
They both pursued me, yowling about all their internal crises the entire time I walked,
until, frankly, it got embarrassing.
I looked back and shook my head, thinking how different my version of animals emerging from the forest was from Sleeping Beauty’s.
I was already feeling haggard and assaulted by sunlight;
Now I was trailed by cats.
Even the creatures, they want things from me.
I made my way home afterwards,
slipping in without the girls knowing I was back, and there I saw my chance when I realized that no one saw me.
I lit candles, and turned on Ray LaMontagne.
I sat down, and tried to take in my first peaceful moment at home in weeks,
when almost immediately I heard my oldest, Alena, pull into the drive.
She opened the front door to see me just sitting;
Doing nothing but smiling,
there in the tranquility.
She stopped dead in the doorway, looking confused.
“What’s happening?” She asked.
She looked worried.
“What do you mean, ‘What’s happening?”
“Why is it like THIS?” She asked, gesturing in a circle around the room.
“You mean quiet, and peaceful with no one asking me for things?” I smiled,
and she answered,
“Yeah. It’s weird. It’s kind-of freaking me out.”
Luckily she didn’t have to be freaked out too long.
I made it two songs in before Paige came to me.
She was holding a Cutie.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
