Busy Bees

It’s been a crazy week, as weeks go, but then I think back to the week before and the week before that and you know what?  They’re all crazy.  Every day is filled with this and that, errands and work and school and fun time and chores and there’s never a breather because even if we’re spending our time hanging out in the yard with the kiddie pool and the new slip n slide, we’re totally still doing things like weeding or dishes or making dinner or just trading off watching the kids while one of us studies or goes running or something.

 

I’m not complaining.  I’m not much good at “doing nothing.”  I like to get out and go, I like activities.  The TV doesn’t come on during the day unless it’s really raining AND someone is sick, so there are always activities to do in between the stuff I have to do as the matriarch of this little circus.  Mouths to feed and laundry to wash, you know.  I’ve never seen the kids bored because they make up their own adventures in the pool or behind the trees or with the train tracks.  We visit the library, we go berry picking, we go kite flying.  It’s more than wonderful to count on the good weather to get us outside.

 

Our new obstacle course.

 

Of course, the guilt and questioning is still there.  I’m a mother, after all.  I’m taking more and more time for myself to run, prepping for Ragnar (I haven’t told the kids yet that we’ll be leaving for two days, ugh).  I had a book club/girls’ night out on Monday.  Tony and I haven’t had a date night in a month or more, but I want to plan one, even though we seem to go out a lot for work-related functions – it’s not the same, you know?  But that will just take us away from the kids for another night.  And frankly, I find my attention span for the kids’ railroad-building and pool-jumping to be short; with a million other things to do, I am constantly going back and forth between chores and play.  I want to be the kind of mom who can play with her kids on the floor for an hour, but I just don’t like it.  I’d rather read them thirty books in a row, or help them play on the slides and swings at the park.

 

Pooped pooch after a 3.5-mile run.

 

I’m a go-er, so we pack our weeks with play dates and dinner dates and community concerts and farmers’ market visits and library visits and family runs/bike rides.  I try to tell myself that my compulsion to go DO things and to do them with my kids will make up for the fact that I don’t get down on my hands and knees very often to chalk up the sidewalk.  But I know it’s not true.  I don’t have to schedule us so much.

 

Beach time.

 

The only way I seem to be able to relax and “live in the now” instead of over-scheduling is to get way away from home.  Visiting my parents and in-laws over a long Independence Day weekend was perfect for this.  We all played on the beach and took naps together and went on walks and it was lovely.  In a couple of weeks we are going camping for a weekend and I am really looking forward to it.  

 

I think I need to change my focus.  I think we need to get out for camping or visiting a lot more often, just so I can let go and relax and be in the moment and not feel compelled to wash windows or run errands at every minute of the day.  I like to get out and go, to do lots of neat things and be busy all week, but damn.  I’m exhausted.  And I probably can’t sustain staying up late and getting up early just to get everything done for much longer. 

 

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Eye Injury Update:  My husband looks like he is involved in a fight club.

 

Also, his whole eyelid has turned a vibrant shade of magenta (and is no longer so swollen), making him look like he has rockstar makeup on one eye.  I giggle uncontrollably whenever I catch sight of him.  Is it good to laugh at your spouse’s misery?  Who cares, it looks funny.