This is the first blog post I’ve written in over a month…probably closer to two months. Believe me, I’m not happy about that. I enjoy writing the blog…it gives me an outlet to bitch and moan….if you know me personally, you know I love to bitch and moan.
And the fact that I haven’t blogged has not escaped the attention of several people, including my 14 year old. Apparently he likes to read about me bashing his father or complaining about his sister…who knew? Just this morning I was complaining to the hubs about something or other and he says to me, “Why don’t you just blog about it?” When I told him I haven’t had time to blog, he said, “Blog about why.”
So here I am. I’m going to tell you why I’ve been too busy to entertain the masses with stupid stories about my family. I’ve been busy…being “okay”. What the hell does that even mean…is that what you’re wondering? It means, I have so much going on right now, so much on my plate, so many responsibilities, that I’m not doing any of them well. I’m just “okay”.
I’m doing what I need to do to not drown in laundry or dishes, but I’m never caught up. There isn’t poop on the toilet seat, but I’m pretty sure that wet spot I just stepped in on the bathroom floor is pee. We have food in the house, but a lot of that food is canned goods and cereal. And God knows when the last time they took their vitamins was.
I’m making sure my kids are fed and go to bed at night, but I haven’t had time to just spend time with them or do anything fun with them. I’m writing, but the at the bare minimum…just enough to say I haven’t quit altogether.
I’ve got a book coming out next week, and I should be working on a successful release. Instead, I find myself never having time to get on the computer and work the social media channels like I should be. A tweet every couple days is all I can remember to do. I make a point to spend ten or fifteen minutes with the hubby at night…enough to stave off a divorce, but that’s it. I’m too tired for TV or talk and I want to go to bed.
I’ve been going to work and doing my job…but I want to do so much more there to catch up, and I just run out of time everyday. Because I have to run home and half-heartedly prepare dinner or pull out the takeout menu again. And I want to run over to my sister’s house and help her with her newborn or her other three kids…but I don’t do that as much as I like.
And I try to take care of myself. I’ve been working out, but only enough to not gain a bazillion pounds from the stress eating I’m doing….not enough to reach any goals I’ve set for myself. I still get my manicure and pedicure…but I’ve been stretching it to a month. Hell, I went three days without shaving last week. When does that slowly become three days without showering???
The dog needs grooming and the newly painted office needs touch ups and organizing. I should text my friend back…she texted me two days ago. My daughter has been on me to paint her desk that we bought six months ago and to buy her pants to replace the ones she outgrew. I want to check my son’s grades online and make sure he’s doing well in high school.
I should call my mother in law and she if she wants to go to the store or catch her up on the what the kids have been doing. Oh, and the school pictures that came in…I should give them to people. But I probably won’t until I hastily send out my Christmas cards (three days before Christmas).
Today I was off from work and all I wanted to do was lie in bed till 9:00, but I couldn’t. That’s a waste of time when I have so much to do. And you all know. There’s. Just. Never. Enough. Time. There’s only one of me and too many hats to wear.
I don’t think I’m alone. I used to pride myself on being that Supermom that could do it all and hold it together, while laughing at moms who fell apart. But that was when my kids were like three months old. And it was definitely wrong thinking. Because we all fall apart at the seams at one point or another. We have so much responsibility…both real and self imposed…that we just cannot do it all. We need to realize that, right?
Stop beating ourselves up for being “okay”? Stop striving for an A+ in everything and barely squeaking by with a C? I probably won’t ever be able to accept that, though, and I’m pretty sure most moms go to their grave wishing they could have been better at something, better at everything.
I can’t explain it…I just never feel like I’ve been enough. I want to be an A+ mom and wife and school nurse and writer and sister and friend…the list goes on and on.
But I have to pick one at a time to work on, because I’m spreading myself too thin for it all. And then what suffers? I don’t want any of those things to suffer? I’ll probably never know the answer to this, or how to make it all work. And I will have to be okay with just being “okay”.