i must remember to remember this

it happens every time.

these frenzied mornings at home getting snapped at and frowned upon as i cram his little self into uniforms and shoes and stuff his arms full of backpacks and lunchboxes and instructions to "behave, behave, behave" ... fast forward to a prolonged exhalation and collapse into the recliner with the littler one. and an intense need to just love her up and cook and play all day, fantasizing all along that she will never talk to me like i know she will talk to me when she's 15, or even 5.

and two blessed days a week, i get to do that, but the other three i don't.

three blessed days a week i get to have a career, one (two actually) that i love, but in the morning, faced with going to work, I never want to go.

all the days begin the same. remember the recliner after the fury of getting N to kindergarten? i sit snuggling and sipping an iced coffee and dread leaving the domestic cocoon of home. eventually i can put it off no longer and i somehow slip in a shower or at least wash my hair in the sink. step one- check. it only takes 45 minutes to find an outfit that looks almost as good on me as it did before i had kids. step two- check. somewhere between the next few steps, of lipstick and shoes that click on the hard floor, the change occurs and i am back to working me. and working me is just as good as home with the kiddos me, but i always forget that until i am out the door, commuting to campus and assuming responsibility for other people's precious children (and all their tuition money).

i forget, every single time.