“I think I love my coffee/blogs ritual so much because everything I see and read is so opposite to the real world of sick grandparents and graduate research presentations and wrinkly school clothes. Some mornings I want to upload myself to pixlr, hit auto-correct, and come up with a witty caption in a cute font.”
This was my Facebook status this morning. I am feeling the need to be edited.
For weeks I’ve been balancing everything as close to right as I can. I’m planning lessons and field trips, going to the gym at least three times a week, spending quality time with Milo, cooking real dinners (with enormous help from Ben), finishing my research paper and making a powerpoint to present it in front of all the smarter teachers, making appointments and reordering contacts and trying to keep the house clean, keep in touch with far-flung family (which is all my family) and stay measured through it all. I’m lucky to have so much to keep in order.
Still, I can’t stop days where I am late, my clothes are uncomfortable but there’s no time to change, I missed the year-mark and my prescriptions are expired, the next physical opening is in December, Milo cries through the entire sweet story time I try to have, I get sad calls from people too far away to hug, there is dinner from three nights ago on the kitchen floor and I feel very unworthy, very unlovable, and wretched just for complaining.
I feel like a broken record, explaining my constant cycle of being amazed at how many beautiful things are in my life, then being overwhelmed and exhausted by my inability to keep everything moving smoothly. This is the just the beginning of my wife/mother/teacher/writer/housekeeper/chef/researcher journey. It’s going to get much harder before it gets easier, and I know there are more bumps in the road than I am able to plan for. Even writing that out helps a little bit. Guess what, Ashlie? This is just scratching the surface.
This morning I did a 10 minute pilates introduction from a DVD I’ve had since I stole it from my mama’s house when I moved out. When it was over, I got into Child’s Pose and whispered, “Today I will be strong and sweet.” It’s mantra time.
(click on images to be taken to the source)