There are times that, as I speed through the things I need to accomplish to actually FEEL accomplished, I get irritated. I think about all that I’m doing and wonder if anyone around me gets it. Do they see all of the little things I do to improve their lives? Do they understand what an enormous job it is to keep the household moving seamlessly? Do they know how hard it is to make their lives work? Do they hear the constant lists I’m running through in my head of all I want to do, all I think I can do, all I actually can do, and what I really wish I could have done? Do they lie awake at night with guilt over what wasn’t accomplished.
I don’t think they do.
Today I had the day off. I was supposed to fly to Cincinnati for my cousin’s wedding. But instead I’m here…in my office…in my laundry room. My uncle’s injury forced us to take a step back and really think about where we needed to be this weekend. It’s been an emotional rollercoaster of a week and I needed this day off…away from work and away from responsibilities. I wanted to sleep-in, write, exercise, grocery shop, and then work on my office (I’ve decided it needs a little…ahem…jazzing up). Instead I was up at seven and happily helped my husband with a school project until 1pm.
But half the day was gone. All of the things I’d hoped to do today, for me, swirling in my head as things for which I no longer had time.
I started to wonder if it was worth it. Maybe there just isn’t enough time to write. Maybe I was mistaken when I thought I could just spend “a couple of minutes a day” doing it. Maybe I was mistaken when I recently committed myself to doing more so I could get better. Maybe I don’t have the capacity to learn more about writing and really establish a writing practice. Maybe these are indulgent and ridiculous pipe dreams that are meant for 22 year olds who don’t have three loads of laundry to fold and four loads of laundry to wash. And maybe I’m kidding myself when I play with the idea of establishing a plan and a schedule that includes and allows me to do things like meditate, and practice writing, and actually writing, and creating a new blog, and attempting to do this for real on the side until I can do it for real in “real life.”
And I started to think about my house…and how there are piles of mail I’ve not even gone through and end of year school folders I haven’t reviewed and a lawn to mow and a prescription to pick-up and cleaning to do. And I wondered how on earth I’d be able to spend the next two days at the pool with my husband and our little girls like we’d hoped when there is all of this sh-t to do. And my mind swirled and swirled some more.
But then I made myself stop.
I sometimes think nobody in my household seems to understand how miraculous it is that I keep everything afloat. All the balls in the air. But what if I too don’t realize all that I do. If I can keep all of these crazy balls, and relationships, and lives flying through the air in perfect form, why can’t I make miracles for myself? Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t realize how good I am. Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t see how talented I am at making it all work. Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t get it.
If I can simultaneously scoop Barbie shoes from my dogs throat, make school lunches, pack overnight bags, proof-read a paper for my husband, and shop-vac up a basement full of water…what makes me think I can’t bend time a little and make MY priorities part of OUR priorities? Why would just a few more things added to a list of many even phase me? I wouldn’t think twice if they were things I needed to do for the little girls or my husband. If it were for them I’d be hell-bent on getting them done. So why not for me?
I think it’s time to give myself a little credit and to start working hard to make ALL the lives and dreams in this household a priority.
TODAY: What if making time for MY dreams benefits everyone in my family? What if allowing myself to really dive into this writing thing will make me a better mom and wife? What if I’m the one not giving myself full credit for my ability to create miracles in this house?