Balancing Act

It has been an absurdly long time since I have sat and thrown some words together. I started this blog as an opportunity to force myself to do something that I love and to make time to reflect on Motherhood.  Writing has always been a comfort for me.  Through many ups and downs in my life, I have always found myself reaching for a a pen and paper to get myself through.  Infuriatingly, I can't seem to find the time to do it.

I’m coming to the realization that a weekly commitment to a blog is not feasible for me.  Monthly?  Maybe.  Annually?  Absolutely!  With two kids under four, life has started to take me to new contemplation of the term “busy.”  Let’s not forget sleep deprived, overworked, stressed.  My wardrobe is a disaster, shoes falling apart, split ends everywhere.  I have clean sox, but not many without holes or that are ever anything but the color grey.  Honestly, I am a hot mess day to day.  If I can guzzle a cup of coffee, make the beds and vacuum the floor, I feel sincerely accomplished.   I most likely would not be able to survive without Google calendar and caffeine.  I’m coming and going in a blur.  Add to the madness that I work four to five nights a week, which contributes much needed money to the checking account, but also adds to my exhaustion. 

I feel disconnected from my friends and family because I don’t have time for a decent phone conversation or cocktail out in the real world.  When I do have time to sit on the couch, it is usually with my husband a glass of wine and a half-assed conversation while we try to catch up on one of our DVR’ed shows that ultimately results in me falling asleep while sitting straight up. 

I hate sounding like I am complaining because my life feels nothing short of wonderful.  However, from the time my feet hit the floor in the morning, it is a never ending to-do list until I plop in bed for the night.  I will admit I am the queen of multi-tasking.  For example, right now I am typing this post while deflecting Tommy with my foot so that he will not eat the potting soil in my floor plant. 

I often wonder how people continue friendships and relationships once they become a Mom.  It is certainly one of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever hoped to have and I would never change a thing.  But I am without a doubt the shittiest friend right now.  I remember birthdays and I always show up at special occasions.  How on earth to people have the time and energy to fill a day with busy little people, packed calendars with ballet classes and wiggle & giggle time and are able to socialize with friends and loved and maintain quality relationships?  How do they hide the bags under their eyes and look over at their husbands and say, “Yes honey.  I totally want to make out right now though I’m pretty sure I haven’t showered since last week’s swim lesson.”  (I’m guessing they are heavily medicated or undercover alcoholics.) 

Thankfully, I do have a have a few compassionate girlfriends who actually get it.  And as a matter of fact two of these friends don’t even have children and excuse my horrible flakiness constantly.  Even better than that, they make an effort and constantly work around my hectic life just to hang out with me once in a while.  If that is not the definition of a true friend, I don’t know what is.

I really do feel as though my daily life is a balancing act.  It’s a struggle for me.  Some days are easier than others but mostly I am just hanging on and looking forward to the extra half hour of sleep that my husband sometimes affords me on the weekends.  Usually it’s Sunday morning.  (So, let’s throw in a little guilt trip in right there.  Tommy is a year old and the only time he’s been to our church is for his Christening!)  I find myself counting the hours until nap time and then afterward counting the hours until bedtime.  Isn’t that just lovely?

Wow...!  This felt good to get out.  I’m feeling much better.  I guess I will reheat my coffee for the third time and reward myself with an episode of Parenthood...while counting the hours until the munchkins get into their pajamas.  Or better yet, until my husband comes home with some form of alcohol.

Hello New Year!

Sitting here drinking the coffee that I have warmed up three times, balancing our checkbook, paying bills, getting organized.  Daddy is back in the office, Rosie is at school for the morning and Tommy is in the middle of his morning slumber.  

It's so ironic how I can be heard complaining about the monotony of being stuck in a routine but yet thrive and get so many things done when we are back to normal.  

I never thought that I would be one of those Mom's that actually looked forward to sending their kid to school.  As a matter of fact, when Rose started Nursery School this past September, I cried my eyes out for the first two days.  She is only there for three mornings a week, but it was a big adjustment for me.  Seeing her become this independent little person with a backpack and a group of friends was a huge change.  It made me sad to see my little peanut wave goodbye and walk away from me into her classroom, without a care in the world.

Soon enough, I got over it and realized how good this was for her.  More importantly, it became clear how important it was for me.  Having mornings to myself gives me the time to have a little peace without a tornado of girly princess rambunctiousness following me around everywhere I go.

It also gives me a little quality time with Tommy, who deserves a little of that since he spends all of his time in the enthusiastic shadow of his big sister.  
  

 In this new year, I'd like to make a couple of resolutions to myself.  Do I want to get in shape and lose ten pounds?  Drink less, exercise more?  Of course.  But this year I've decided to love myself more, spend more time making messes with my kids instead of constantly cleaning them up and to go a bit easier on myself.  

After all, it is another year spending all of my time raising these two.  And I am so forever grateful to be experiencing the little people that they are becoming.