every once in a while, sometimes every so often, sometimes rarely...you just need a break. a break from the grind, a break from the tasks, to-do lists, phones ringing, emails blinking, schedules dictating.
i'm taking a vacation day. my son will go to school and i will do whatever the ___ i feel like. for me this means cleaning my apartment without distraction of "play with me", "mom, mommy, mooooooooom". the only meals to make are my own. ahhhhhhh time off.
i will feel accomplished, relaxed, refreshed and happy. i will get my hair cut and let them wait on me like i'm a queen. maybe i'll spring for a pedicure?
for this day i will be taken care of.
do yourself a favor - if you are tired, over worked, under appreciated, pulled in 1000 directions, over achieving, under achieving, burnt or bored...take that damn vacation day that you've earned :)
Friday, October 22, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
A poem that actually makes sense
The Thing Is
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
Ellen Bass,
from Mules of Love.
© BOA Editions, Ltd.,
The Writers Almanac for Oct 16, 2010
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
Ellen Bass,
from Mules of Love.
© BOA Editions, Ltd.,
The Writers Almanac for Oct 16, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
you cannot raise your hand to get off of this ride...
ahhh Fall. i love Fall. fairs, crisp air, colorful leaves, apples, pumpkins, scarves, and TONS AND TONS of stuff to do.
it really never ends. well it does "end" but let's not be so morbid.
the wheel just keeps going round and round, picking up speed and you cannot raise your hand to exit the ride. sometimes i feel like i'm a hampster in a wheel, running and running as fast as i can and other times i feel like i'm in a dryer full of sneakers, being tumbled around and around.
school, work, money, friends, bills, play dates, training, volunteer, organize, gym, laundry, cook, clean, drive, pick up, drop off, pack lunch, discipline, plan for the future, deal with the past, be in the present...maybe have some fun? read a book? pamper yourself? yeah right.
just keeps going. people say it gets easier but do they just mean we adapt? i can already carry about 50 lbs in one arm, talk on the phone, make sure my kid doesn't get runover in the parking lot, and go up the stairs at the same time - what is possibly next?
i just keep trying. that's all i can do. i cannot raise my hand to get off of this ride. i just have to smile through it - know that i am lucky - know that i can do it. i can do it all... at least that's what i'm choosing to tell myself :)
just like the Gravitron and the Zipper - although that ride is frightening, makes you feel like you've seen your last day and that you will definitely soon see your last meal...it is fun after all.
it really never ends. well it does "end" but let's not be so morbid.
the wheel just keeps going round and round, picking up speed and you cannot raise your hand to exit the ride. sometimes i feel like i'm a hampster in a wheel, running and running as fast as i can and other times i feel like i'm in a dryer full of sneakers, being tumbled around and around.
school, work, money, friends, bills, play dates, training, volunteer, organize, gym, laundry, cook, clean, drive, pick up, drop off, pack lunch, discipline, plan for the future, deal with the past, be in the present...maybe have some fun? read a book? pamper yourself? yeah right.
just keeps going. people say it gets easier but do they just mean we adapt? i can already carry about 50 lbs in one arm, talk on the phone, make sure my kid doesn't get runover in the parking lot, and go up the stairs at the same time - what is possibly next?
i just keep trying. that's all i can do. i cannot raise my hand to get off of this ride. i just have to smile through it - know that i am lucky - know that i can do it. i can do it all... at least that's what i'm choosing to tell myself :)
just like the Gravitron and the Zipper - although that ride is frightening, makes you feel like you've seen your last day and that you will definitely soon see your last meal...it is fun after all.
Monday, October 4, 2010
buckle up - we're going on a guilt trip!
i know exactly when my relationship with guilt changed. it was the second i realized i was pregnant.
when you're really young, guilt is something you rarely feel. if you have your head on straight, once you get older, you may feel it from time to time...like when i made my friend do my homework for me...or when i completely plagiarized an entire book report on george washington...or when i took more than my fair share of the "take one please" candy left on door steps at halloween.
i became entwined with guilt so deeply when i knew i was growing a tiny person inside of me. that i would be responsible for him...for life.
mother guilt swept in and attacked wherever it could. i felt guilty for taking a shower. clearly my baby needed me in the 5 minutes it took me to run some shampoo through my hair. i felt guilty when i wished he would just be QUIET. i'm a bad mother for wanting to pull my hair out because i haven't slept for more than 15 minutes in two weeks.
feel guilty for going back to work. feel guilty for dropping him off at daycare. feel guilty for using that exersaucer a little too much - it was such a great containment device after all.
my relationship with guilt got very serious. it took me years to realize that time away from my baby was good for both of us. that letting someone help out doesn't mean i'm a "bad mom". wanting to be left alone doesn't mean i hate my child.
the guilt has changed over time, but it hasn't really gone away. i feel guilty that i didn't make more of myself (seriously...what was i thinking majoring in sociology?)...wish i was older, wish i had my life settled first before a child was thrown into the mix (but the white picket fence fairy tale sounded so achievable!), wish that i could stay at home more, especially when he gets upset when i can't go on the field trip (clearly going to work is more fun than going to a farm and petting bunnies...yeah right.) the list goes on and on. as soon as i can "let go" of the guilt over one thing, another lovely item gets added to the list.
i hope he understands that every thing i do is for him. that although sometimes i'd rather shut my hand in a car door than play legos, i love him and always will put his needs before mine. i hope he understands that i desperately want a day at the spa, a night out with the girls, a weekend away...but that doesn't mean that he isn't number one in my life.
maybe guilt keeps us striving to be better. maybe guilt is supposed to keep our children safe...keep us from shifting our priorities too much. i still struggle at the balancing act. when i see his cute face pop up like a prairie dog in the window of the child care room at the gym (after he's spent all day at kindergarten, and then 2 hours in aftercare) i feel badly that i'm not in there playing with him. that i'm "indulging" myself with a 30 minute, jogger stroller free run.
i've learned over the last 5.5 years that sometimes it's okay to put myself first. i should probably do it more often. a good mother is a happy mother.
i'm hoping that someday he'll say that i was good enough, and if i'm really lucky, he'll say i was great :)
when you're really young, guilt is something you rarely feel. if you have your head on straight, once you get older, you may feel it from time to time...like when i made my friend do my homework for me...or when i completely plagiarized an entire book report on george washington...or when i took more than my fair share of the "take one please" candy left on door steps at halloween.
i became entwined with guilt so deeply when i knew i was growing a tiny person inside of me. that i would be responsible for him...for life.
mother guilt swept in and attacked wherever it could. i felt guilty for taking a shower. clearly my baby needed me in the 5 minutes it took me to run some shampoo through my hair. i felt guilty when i wished he would just be QUIET. i'm a bad mother for wanting to pull my hair out because i haven't slept for more than 15 minutes in two weeks.
feel guilty for going back to work. feel guilty for dropping him off at daycare. feel guilty for using that exersaucer a little too much - it was such a great containment device after all.
my relationship with guilt got very serious. it took me years to realize that time away from my baby was good for both of us. that letting someone help out doesn't mean i'm a "bad mom". wanting to be left alone doesn't mean i hate my child.
the guilt has changed over time, but it hasn't really gone away. i feel guilty that i didn't make more of myself (seriously...what was i thinking majoring in sociology?)...wish i was older, wish i had my life settled first before a child was thrown into the mix (but the white picket fence fairy tale sounded so achievable!), wish that i could stay at home more, especially when he gets upset when i can't go on the field trip (clearly going to work is more fun than going to a farm and petting bunnies...yeah right.) the list goes on and on. as soon as i can "let go" of the guilt over one thing, another lovely item gets added to the list.
i hope he understands that every thing i do is for him. that although sometimes i'd rather shut my hand in a car door than play legos, i love him and always will put his needs before mine. i hope he understands that i desperately want a day at the spa, a night out with the girls, a weekend away...but that doesn't mean that he isn't number one in my life.
maybe guilt keeps us striving to be better. maybe guilt is supposed to keep our children safe...keep us from shifting our priorities too much. i still struggle at the balancing act. when i see his cute face pop up like a prairie dog in the window of the child care room at the gym (after he's spent all day at kindergarten, and then 2 hours in aftercare) i feel badly that i'm not in there playing with him. that i'm "indulging" myself with a 30 minute, jogger stroller free run.
i've learned over the last 5.5 years that sometimes it's okay to put myself first. i should probably do it more often. a good mother is a happy mother.
i'm hoping that someday he'll say that i was good enough, and if i'm really lucky, he'll say i was great :)
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