The Day I Was the Last One to Pick Up My Kids from Daycare

The other day, I had various troubles at work, and for the first time, I picked up my kids from daycare just before 7:00 PM.

Usually, I pick them up before 6:00 PM. Even then, my one-year-old daughter is exhausted and explodes into terrible tantrums at home.
She won't wash her hands, won't take off her clothes, won't get in the bath, and won't eat her dinner.
She resists every single daily routine with all her might, and her tears and screams echo through the house.

Watching this from the sidelines is my sensitive and kind four-year-old son.
If I scold my daughter, he shrinks away sadly, and if I give up, he tries his best to talk to her and soothe her. Seeing him like that only increases my guilt, and my self-loathing and fatigue grow even deeper.

Every single day, we spend our nights like that.
Now, this is going to be an hour later. What on earth is going to happen? Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.

Once the overtime was decided, I was depressed all day with fear and guilt. I tried contacting my husband with a tiny shred of hope, but he replied that he had dinner engagements every night this week.
E-v-e-r-y n-i-g-h-t t-h-i-s w-e-e-k.

As a small charm, I bought some stick bread at a convenience store. If they were in a bad mood from hunger, I would let them eat it on the way home. If they walked down the dark road eating sweet bread, maybe it would be a little more fun.
As soon as work ended, I took off like a sprinter in a crouch start.

I cleared every train transfer as seriously as if I had just moved to the city, and when I finally arrived at my local station, the clock I saw read 6:30 PM.

There were many students around who had just gotten off the train. When I left the station, the sky was still slightly bright, whispering to me, 'It's not even night yet.'

That's right. It shouldn't be that late just before 7:00 PM. Why am I in such a rush?
I told myself this, yet I still headed toward the daycare at a fast pace.

The daycare I reached in the twilight had only the entrance lit up, clearly looking like it was 'just before closing.'

I pressed the buzzer as if running into the building. At the same time, the siblings turned around. As expected, there were only two of them left at the daycare.
My heart stung for a moment, but the next second I reconsidered. It can't be helped. In every daycare across Japan, there is one family every day that is the 'last one to be picked up.'

Ignoring my hesitation, my cute children both brightened up and came running toward me as if tumbling.
My son put on his shoes in a panic, and my daughter brought her shoes one by one. Even though they are so small and everything is awkward, I could somehow tell that my daughter was tangled up in her own joy.

After thanking the teacher many times, we hurried out of the daycare, and as soon as we held hands, my son started talking excitedly.

'I ate a sweet potato for a snack!'

'[Daughter's name] was with me, so I wasn't lonely!'
'[Daughter's name] went home after she ate her potato!'
'Little sister ate a potato too!! She ate it all!'

I see, they got a snack. My little one ate it too? That's good. That's a relief.

Feeling deeply relieved, I talked to my son, who was excited by the unusual event, and walked while holding my daughter, who was full of potato and sleepy but calm.
My daughter clung to me tightly and wouldn't move. As if to say she wanted to be attached to me with as much surface area as possible.

As soon as we got home, I put the rice and curry from the freezer into the microwave.
While it was heating, I washed my hands with the kids. My son kept talking in his excitement.
He said over and over that it was totally fine. Because I apologized so many times, he was being considerate of me.

When my son can see that 'saying this will make the other person happy,' he tends to try too hard.

I know he is very kind, truly kind, but I think about how having this trait even as an adult can have both good and bad sides.
Wanting to make someone happy is because it makes you happy to see them happy. But that feeling itself is also pure goodwill.
What makes me brood is that I think this trait is completely inherited from me. My husband doesn't have a shred of this in him.

The kids gobbled up the curry (I learned last year that Vermont Curry mild is delicious even for adults), and the three of us took a bath.

Because I feel guilty, I can be kind to the kids. The kids are in a good mood.

Soaking in the slightly hot bath, I felt deeply how exhausted I was.
I'm tired. I'm tired, exhausted, and feel like I'm going to sink.

I studied hard, went to university, and managed to get a job. Up until then, I had never even thought about gender differences.
So I got married, had kids, and lived assuming that continuing to work was the natural thing to do. But that is not a standard 'anyone can do it' course at all.
I don't mean to brag, but even for me—who can manage reasonably well both mentally and physically, is somewhat laid-back and capable, and has two healthy children who are probably easy to raise—I am at my absolute limit.

When I let my guard down, the two who were playing nicely started fighting over a toy. I didn't have a shred of energy to snuggle up, listen to their arguments, and mediate.
Instead, I chose to raise my voice.

'Who was lonely today because Mom was late!'
'Me!!'
My son raised his hand with a loud voice, and my daughter raised her hand without really knowing what was going on.
Both of them were beaming. So cute. Children really love a fun atmosphere. They turn into a good mood so easily.

'Who worked hard today even though they were lonely!'
'Me!!'
So cute. Both of their eyes are sparkling. They are completely at ease.
When I tried using a desperately cheerful voice, my own mood unexpectedly lifted as well.

'Then... who was happy when Mom came to pick them up today!!'
'MEEEEE!!!'

For a moment, time stood still inside me.

In the bathtub, the two naked kids were looking at me with big smiles. My son with all his might, and my daughter with a face that seemed to understand.

I was able to see this face because I worked desperately today, went to pick them up, and even though I was exhausted, I tried my best to stay happy with my children until the end.

My goodness. Sometimes there are moments like this. That's what parenting is.

After that, we got out of the bath, read picture books, brushed our teeth, and all went to bed together.

After hugging them and telling them 'thank you' and 'you did your best' over and over again, I soon heard their breathing as they fell asleep.

Ah. I did my best. I'm tired. I'm tired.
But, to sum it up, I have to say that today was a good day.

Thinking of the two of them who raised their hands with all their might—a moment I couldn't capture in a photo—I also fell asleep in an instant.