Where is the easy way?

The boys stand by the coffee table, pulling the little wooden boats, trains and airplanes out of the puzzle and either throwing them on the floor, banging them together, or trying to gain nutritional value from them. As I walk through the room, my purse and laptop bag in hand, they reach for me, waddling across the room with their little arms in the air. They have these urgent, needy looks on their cherub faces as they beg to be picked up and hugged. Sometimes I will pick them up one last time. Other times I will pat their little heads or simply wave and try to get out of the house without a major production. But – every single time it hurts a little bit to see the disappointment on their faces when I put them down, or walk on by. They seem so trusting and happy to see me – to spend time with me, and so horribly wounded when I leave…

It is hard to hurt those tiny, trusting little boys. It is hard to leave every day and go to work. And it really is hard to deal with the fact that I look forward to the time away from them in some small way. Lets face it. It is nice to sit in this office of four walls – nobody crying or pooping and expecting me to do anything about it. It is easy to spend the day picking my own priorities and worrying about me and me alone. It is also selfish and lonely. I miss them horribly when they are not with me, even if I get some satisfaction out of the alone time. I look forward to going home and seeing them every afternoon… and yet… and yet…

When I walk in the door I am trying to de-stress from my day at the office. I am trying to adjust to being “home mommy” instead of “work executive” – and honestly that takes a few minutes. However good luck with getting ANY minutes once you walk into the door of my home at 5:45. And I realize that I have had lots of minutes to myself during the day – but I have also been getting chewed out by various people since 7:45am and am a little tired in general by the time evening arrives.

So – I walk in the door and am trampled by tiny shoe-clad baby feet, arms raised grunting and tugging at me – although I am thrilled beyond belief, I am also on my way to a breakdown. I try to pay attention to my wonderful boys, and the girls if they are home. I change clothes (babies in tow) and start dinner (babies in tow) and even with my husband and I splitting the dinner responsibilities it still eats up so much time. Getting everyone fed and cleaned up takes us into the 7:30 timeframe, when we start getting the boys ready for bed and read to them by 8.

There is no time in the work week for fun. For hugging, and playing, and goofing off. I guess I just miss it. I feel torn no matter where I am or what I am doing. When does this all get easier?