Wednesday, November 19, 2014

When I get to three cups a day, you can start to worry.

Since September, I’ve been drinking coffee in the morning and in the afternoon.  I don’t buy a latte in the afternoon or anything; those of you who are coffee snobs elitists enthusiasts will recoil in horror when you read this, but I just reheat the coffee leftover from the morning pot.  I’m not after flavor, I’m after caffeine and heat.  Scalding heat, preferably, to kill any germs that might be trying to lay claim to my throat.  I’m becoming dependent on that afternoon jolt to get me through the rest of the day.  What I really need is a nap, but that’s not happening.


When school started in September, my life got busier.  Like, a lot.  Busier to the max.  You wouldn’t think that the addition of kindergarten to our schedules would do so much damage, especially since Charles and Jamie were in full-time daycare/preschool before, but it did.  Kindergarten has compressed our schedule such that I am eking out every spare moment before I go to bed to finish tasks for the day while still trying to appear as if I’m in control enough to be a good mom, wife, business owner, and friend.


The friend thing has probably taken the biggest hit since September – I barely have time for my family.  I’m sorry, friends.  I love you and I miss you.


School starts at 9:25 am.  We leave the house for our walk at 8:50.  Used to be that I would have the kids to preschool by 8:45 and then head to work (earlier, if I was really on top of things).  Now, I get to work by 10 am (usually) with the baby, and try to go home by 1:30 or 2 PM so that I can spend some quality time singing to Freddie in the kitchen while I cook dinner/do laundry.  Then, we leave to pick up Jamie at 2:45, get home and get bundled up to walk and pick up Charles by 3:40, then home to change for boot camp or make dinner or to the store for groceries.  Stories, playtime, bedtime, more laundry, lunch prep for the next day, putting the baby to bed, snuggling on the couch with Tony (because the baby is still awake, otherwise: no snuggling), and then to sleep, if I can get it.  There is NO WIGGLE ROOM in my schedule.  None.  Zip.  Zilch.  Nada.

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Cute, sick, non-sleeping baby


And then there are the days, like the past few, when Freddie’s sick and won’t sleep for more than two hours at a time, so I’m up all night, and my brother’s sick, so I have to do his job and mine at work.  Tony’s gone tonight and tomorrow night and we have an event to attend on Friday, so the kids have a babysitter.  I just want to slow it all down and have some sustained, quiet time at home when we’re not doing anything, you know?


I’m not complaining, not really.  Everything is awesome, as the song says.  And it is cool to be part of a team, this team of adorable boys, one wonderful man, and a stupid dog.  I don’t want to change anything, not really, but I’m tired.  So, so tired.  And I keep hoping that something will shake loose soon to help me feel a little more in control and a little more relaxed.  The reality is that things are not going to slow down much until summertime.


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I seem to spend a lot of “spare” time looking for lost socks.


So how do you keep a crazy schedule from getting you down?  How will I manage to keep the feelings of guilt over not doing very well in any one category of my life (mother/wife/business owner/friend) at bay?  It helps to be so busy that I don’t have time to think about it much, but when I do, I wonder if it’s any better for anyone else.  Does anyone really have free time anymore?  Did anyone ever?  Is free time the purview of the fabulously wealthy?  What are the costs of letting some things go, and do I still have anything left to sacrifice in my pursuit of a few moments of genuine recreation?


Whoops.  Gotta run.  Things to do.  Sigh.

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