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.