There were days, hell years, I dreamt of the chance to do nothing, lag.. sleep! Oh no, you won't hear me complaining for a second that I don't have another dreadful, ear-piercing, head pounding concert or amateur sports event to attend. Don't judge me.... I always went, smiling every step of the way, beaming with pride, convincing myself that my child was the one with the talent! I sat through rain, sleet and unbearable heat. I served as snack mom, class mom, chauffeur.... There was (and is) nothing I could not, would not or did not do for my kids (maybe I am talking about goats what's it to you?) ... I even held my tongue when the overbearing, self-absorbed, paunchy ex-athlete fathers (and some less than feminine mothers) over-reacted while vicariously living their lost dream through their child (who, in most cases, did not seem to have the same dream) so as to keep the peace and not embarrass my own children. But I can honestly say, I do not for a second miss fighting with the little gremlins to get ready, pack all the equipment/instruments in the car and schlep all the way to Timbuktu just to turn around and do it all over again!
Now, in retrospect, I look back and smile, happy to include each and every one of them among the fondly remembered events of my children's lives. That's the thing about memories, you are the author and you can include or delete whatever details you want. In fact, I often dream of them while NAPPING!! Bet some of you younger mom's can't do that (nap, I mean)!
(appropriately, Mad Housewife Wine!)
Sure, there are those instances when I reminisce, especially after a
......and then go to bed!