What Memories are You Leaving Behind?

Like every other parent on earth, I have a lot on my plate. It doesn't matter if your a Stay-At-Homer, a working parent, a parent going back to school, married or single one.

We have a lot on our plate with trying to raise kids in any environment, and we put most of this junk on our already full plate.

It's our world, we just stick the kids in it.

Last summer I made the decision to go back to school and finish my degree. I actually decided to change majors after working as a Laboratory Assistant at a local hospital the year before. The hospital ran in to money problems, and 200 of us expendable (not degree holding) workers got the boot.

I spent the months between January and August having a blast redecorating my house and living off unemployment benefits and Hub.

Then they money ran out. So back to work I went. I ended up at the local store for the summer. Hated every minute of it and decided that I was going back to school.

I did late enrollment at the community college ( the only one within 80 miles from my house, that I drive to 3 times a week) and kept working at the store. My youngest daughter (Thing2) went to Kindergarten and I thought I had it all together.

Then things started falling apart.

I missed field trips and snack days. I spent most days not at school or work, looking for babysitters ( THANK GOD I had my mom) and studying.

My house fell a part, my kids fell a part, and I don't recall seeing Hub. He was smart enough to run from the chaos that had become our life.

I can't remember if my kids wore underwear to school everyday, but I do remember saying " Mommy has to study. Do you want her to flunk out, not be able to get a good job, and have to support her when she's old and daddy has killed himself from working 90 hours a week trying to put you both through college alone!!"

I remember saying that a lot.

I promise I am going somewhere with this, stay with me.

The semester ended, I made the dean's list and I thought I finally get a break!

Then, two weeks before Christmas, I found a lump. A hard pea size lump, that felt like a rock was sitting a the base of my left breast.

I stayed calm, reassuring Hub, my parents, his parents, and the hoards of Sisters-in-law, that it was probably a pimple or something and I didn't have cancer and I wasn't going to die.

They weren't getting off that easy. I plan to be here for the rest of their lives to make them all as miserable as possible.

But in the back of mind, and when no one else was around, I was freaking the fark out!

What if? Hub can't raise two girls alone (he probably could, but damn that's mean of me to make him).

Suddenly, while waiting for ultrasound results, and doctors to get back from Christmas vacation to read them, my priorities changed.

All the plans I had to clean and organize, to get a head start on the next semester's work, all the plans I had, went out out the window.

I just wanted to play with my kids and spend time with Hub and the rest of my family.

A good job, good grades, and a clean house wasn't very important any more.

All the good parenting books say that kids don't remember if the house was clean., they remember their parents spending time with them.

Not true. I remember growing up in a house that wasn't clean or organized. I mean, it wasn't a pigsty, we never got any weird skin rashes or lice or anything. But clean, it wasn't.

I also, remember my mom playing board games and cards with me for hours. I remember her helping me build tents out of blankets and letting me eat ice cream for breakfast when I was sick. I remember her letting me run through the water hose and making play-doh animals with me.

My results came back as the lump being a clogged milk duct. My world righted itself and life went crazily back to normal. I am sitting in the middle of my semester at school at a point that can either make or break my grades for this semester. My house is a mess, and I am waiting for the skin rashes to break out. I am totally behind on everything.

And I spent all day yesterday, coloring Easter eggs with my kids.

What memories are you leaving behind?