It seems as though every kid in the known universe has returned to school but my three. Don't get me wrong, I am loving the late night movie-watching with my brood and sleeping in during the week, but I'm ready for the next chapter. It has been a productive, eventful, eye-opening summer I will not soon forget. But it's time to push the chickies out of the nest: Mama has earned those 2.5 hours a day to herself.
I spend too much time in cyberspace. Driving down the highway the other day, I noticed a car with one of those country stickers on it--you know, those oval ones that are white with black lettering. My immediate reaction to IRL wasn't "Ireland", but rather "in real life".
Maybe not everyone is a racist. Mariah's playing soccer this fall. Saturday was the parent/coaches meeting. During the "what to wear at practice" portion, the head coach looked directly at me and said, "Nothing hard in the hair. Last year we had a young lady with beads in her hair and she was required to play wearing a stocking cap." Oooooookaaaaaaay. So what does that have to do with me? What--just because I'm black that automatically means my daughter is going to show up for practice looking like Rick James? Because yeah, black girls have to have 50 million barrettes in their hair! Before I could explode, I counted to ten and glanced around the group. That's when I realized why the comment was aimed at me: Mariah was the only girl on the team.
Once we move and Isaiah is in full-day kindy, I'm going back to work. Outside of the home. I've been a stay-home parent since Savannah was born, 12 years ago next week. I just hope being a childcare provider, referee, chauffeur, counselor, bookkeeper, nurse, chef, and maid all these years has given me enough life experience to be viable in the job market. I'm not holding out for a management position, a part-time gig that gets me home before the kids do will fit the bill just fine. I'm blessed to have had the opportunity to stay home as long as I have. J and I designed it that way. Even when times got hard, instead of deciding that I needed to work a job to make ends meet, J would very often get a second job. I love that man. I am admittedly anxious about going back after all of this time, but I always knew the time would come ~ time to bring home some bacon.