Forget everything I said.
I am ready. They are ready. Ryan is ready to not come home to a bitchy shrew who growls like Gollum when he asks how my day was.
We went up to school today to get some breakfast and coffee and soak up the first-day energy, even though I don't have to be there until Thursday. It was a treat. It was supposed to be a treat. It was kind of a disaster with the not listening and not following directions and the screwing around with the automated paper towel dispenser in the ladies' room until I had to physically drag them both out by their arms. Because EVERYONE IS SUDDENLY DEAF.
Last week Amy posited via Facebook "Am I uptight because no one listens to me or does no one listen to me because I'm so uptight?" Indeed.
So after all that excitement we came home where I put Wes to bed, put Charlie in front of the Claymation Christmas DVD he's been asking for, and sat down in front of my laptop to stare, tearfully and shaking with frustration, at the full-time, tenure track job posting that's been up for over a year that I'm only tangentially qualified for and thought "I could make this work. We could get a nanny."
And then Charlie called sweetly from the living room "Mama, it's the part with the bells! Come watch with me." It's my favorite part. When I sat next to him on the couch he said "I want my mom here for this!"
I know I would miss these quiet times with the boys if I worked full time. But I am not meant to do this by myself ten hours a day, every day, when it is too hot and bee-infested to go in the back yard and the only way to cool off is to shlep two surly kids and half a Walmart worth of plastic crap to the pool, where if I am lucky, there will be other kids to play with and if I am not lucky, I will spend two hours repeatedly getting Wes out of the pool filter and breaking up fights over the "good shovel." I don't think anyone is.