Wasted. Another day gone. Another day filled with sorrow instead of joy. Anxiety instead of comfort. Why? For nothing. Another day lost to sweating the small stuff.
Part of me is self aware. Part of me knows I’m wasting so much time. I will not die wishing I had planned better meals. Well maybe I will depending on what I die from, but still, I probably won’t. I won’t wish my house was cleaner. I won’t wish I was more organized. Again, maybe I will, maybe I’ll die being angst ridden about whatever mess I’m leaving behind, but I hope not.
I think I will be upset that I didn’t leave more pictures. More memories of great times. More feelings of love. I think I’ll worry that I’m leaving my family woefully unprepared for life. I think I’ll worry that I will be woefully unprepared for whatever it is that comes next. I wasting time. Time is precious. Time is the greatest gift and my most finite resource and I’m wasting it.
But I can’t help it. I’m trying. I really am. But I’m wasting it. Why can’t the joy just flow? Why can’t I just take comfort as it comes? Why can’t I just use whatever time I’ve got wisely? Why?
I need to stop obsessively running my fingers through my hair and essentially pulling it out. It’s breaking off and getting thinner. And apparently, it’s a real thing. With a name. For crazy people.
My kids were so surprised to see this go up:
That’s my new flow chart, made pretty by Miss Nan. Cause I suck. At any rate, it’s a basic flow chart to head the minions off at the pass with all those horrible questions. You know, the ones where the kid asks and you just stand there slack-jawed because you can’t believe they just asked that. You find yourself trying to remember exactly how many times you dropped them as a baby cause you’re sure they must have some type of latent brain injury based on the question. Here’s an example:
Me: Attention minions. There will be no electronics, play dates, outdoor fun, or fun of any other kind until your rooms are cleaned.
Minions: ok (also some grunts and whining)
20 mins later I find a minion sitting in her room, a tornado of wreckage surrounding her.
Minion: Hey mom, ****** called, can you drop me off at her house in 5 minutes?
Minion: Is that a yes?
So yes, a flow chart was in fact needed. I framed it and put it up in the kitchen. So today, after school, every time I heard “Hey Mom” my pat response was…
CHECK THE CHART
And it was my turn to watch them stand there all slack-jawed. Middle thought it was cool till she realized the implications. Then she was angry. She informed me that she would just lie to the chart. I informed her that that would be a waste and would earn her some consequences. She tried it out though. After a small fit, stair stomping and a slammed door, plus an hour, she emerged having cleaned her room.
Ahhhh…charts are good. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the rest of my newly framed, minion maddening tools!
Being awake at 3:30am, watching TV, and eating nachos is NOT being an adult. I’m not tired, my brain is running, I’m watching cooking shows. I’m hungry because its been 8 hours since I’ve eaten. Of course I’m hungry!
But this is not ok. I gotta get back on the right sleep schedule. Tomorrow I need to get up at a decent hour, take no naps, and get to bed at a reasonable time. Grrrrr
Stick with me for a minute here.
That is what came out of my Lazy Boy.
Those pics are of the floor between my sectional and the wall. See that iPod? Middle just got that for Christmas. It’s the 2nd time she lost it. Oh and what’s that there?
Yes, that is a half eaten corn dog.
That is the disgusting pile of trash that I pulled out of and out from under my sectional. I also pulled out several pushpins from the side of my sectional.
Now I know what you’re thinking. What did I expect having little kids? But the thing is, they aren’t little anymore! Smalls is 9 FFS! Middle is going to be 11 soon! Is it too much to ask to not find half eaten corn dogs under the couch?! Or a half a box worth of Q-tips stuck between the cushions?!
I suppose you think I should have some rules then about eating in the living room. I DO! I do have rules about it. It is only on rare occasions, with permission that it is allowed. They get in trouble and have consequences when I catch them otherwise. But to me, more importantly, is why do they do it?! I mean, this is NOT a behavior that we role model. So why do they think its ok? I just don’t know. But for the record:
THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS!!!!
Well it’s not seriously late at night but I want to be sleeping and my brain keeps whirring away. Stupid brain!
I don’t know whether I should be making a to-do list at this point or not. I usually start making a quick list and the next thing I know it’s getting longer and longer as I think of more and more things until I’m so overwhelmed I don’t sleep for days.
I thought I would try to avoid that by blogging instead. I don’t know how well that will work out.
I’m trying to stay focused on my family and our needs this month. It’s hard to do. I worry about my friends but I just keep telling myself that they are all adults who need to learn to take care of their own shit. But where’s the line there? When do you cross from just helpful conversation or listening to a vent into that point where you get sucked into their stuff? I’m not sure. It’s really new territory for me. I’m a helper/fixer by nature. For now I’m going with: if it doesn’t require any real action on my part I’m on the side of the line I want to be on. I suppose I will have to just keep my time spent listening in check. Perhaps I can say: As long as I spend just as much time listening intently to my own family as I do others I’m on the right side of my line. Sound good? We’ll try it and see.
Well Middle just came downstairs to sleep on the couch because she couldn’t get to sleep upstairs. Since I’m up anyway I think I’ll go talk to her to see if anythings wrong and maybe cuddle her a little. That’s what mom’s do right? Normally I would be irritated and yell at her. I figure if I pretty much do the opposite of what I used to do, in most cases, I’ll be heading in the right direction.
Looking for that balance. Ever elusive. Today I spent time taking stock. Assessing the situation. As The Talking Heads once said, “Well, how did I get here?”
I’ll keep the how to myself for now but where am I? I’m not quite 40, married, 3 beautiful daughters. I have a decent old house on a great piece of property, close to family and friends. I have a fabulous support network and some really great women to look up to and seek guidance from. I am poised on the brink of a truly great and remarkable life. I can feel it. I really can. It’s going to take some real changes though. Letting go of things, and people, that hinder forward movement. This type of growth is hard work. Getting to the After Life it seems, may require a metaphorical death of the old. But that leaves new beginnings right?
I’m going to spend some time getting balanced first. Miss Née has been telling me this is my problem for like, forever. 🙂 I’m sure she will be happy to hear I’m finally doing as she told me.
Wish me luck!