Back to School: I Have Stress Edition

It’s the first week of full-time school for Kate and Flora. It’s a return to the school year schedule, of which I am not fond. Michael is in his daycare full time for the first time since the beginning of June.

I have no meal plan for this week.
I am still waiting for a couple of uniform pieces for Flora to come in.
And I am not looking forward to the night time sprint to bed.

Dan and I discussed the possibilities of him working until 9 p.m. three nights a week so that he can be home by 6-6:30 p.m. one night a week and by 7-7:30 p.m. another night a week. (He’s still alternating working Saturdays, which seems to be good for him.) I am hoping we can do this.

I just found out that Flora has soccer practice twice a week, Monday and Friday, and a game each weekend starting September 7.

I’m going to have to make friends with another soccer parent FAST. I see much carpooling in Flora’s future.

I signed Kate up for pep squad this year, too. No idea what that entails. Plus, Kate wants to play violin, just like her big sister.

I feel like I shouldn’t be this stressed out about this. Other parents do this, right? Other working parents of multiple kids, yeah? I mean, I feel like I’m having a measure of PTSD here (not to minimize actual people with actual serious PTSD).

But I’m dreading this year.
I’m dreading all this running around. And it’s not as if Flora and Kate are doing six or seven activities each. We said one sport, one instrument (if that).

And here was are. Each has one sport, and one instrument. Plus, homework. Plus I have to feed them. And, theoretically bathe them, and make sure they get enough sleep. And, you know, there’s that Michael kid running around too.

Shit.

And then I sit here wondering: when exactly did I bite off more than I could chew? And how do I get a handle on that without losing my job or letting my kids sit around and do nothing? There’s gotta be a middle ground around here somewhere.

I sure am having a hard time finding it.

And I don’t really want to let these girls down. (Not to mention my sweet boy.)