I Miss The Chaos
Last week, I did 34 crosswords. I read three books. I walked more than 100,000 steps. We ate a home-cooked meal every night. I cleaned my desk.
I did all the things that I always said I would do, if I only had time.
I hated every second of it.
I miss the chaos. I want to pull out my planner and figure out how to get everywhere that we need to be. I want to run through the list of games and practices and meetings and appointments and sigh. I want to bolt out of school on a Wednesday to get to the baseball game on time. I want to drive to the scout campout, pick up the boy, have him change into baseball gear in the back of the van, take him to his game, and then bring him back to the campout.
I miss when a Friday afternoon would come around, thinking that we have nothing at night, and then have the sophomore say to us, "Hey, can you drive a bunch of us to Altitude? I already told them that you could."
I want the teen to have last minute plans on a Saturday, and be able to say to my husband, "Hey, let's go grab some drinks and steaks at Gibbet Hill."
I wish that I was driving 2 hours to Western Mass to see the college boy play in a frisbee tournament on a Saturday, rush back to see the high schooler's baseball game down in Boston, and then the next day, drive 3.5 hours up to the college in the Middle of Nowhere Maine to see the college boy sing for 45 minutes, then drive back home in the darkness of the Maine Turnpike, only to repeat the process to see him direct and act in a play the next weekend.
It's chaos, but to me, it's this amazing life that we have built. And I miss it so much.
Tell me about the chaos that you miss.