Playing Games in a Tent

Mommy, I want to dream about playing games in a tent with you aaaand . . . eating Azteca.

aaaand . . . eating healthy foods at home.

aaaand. . . eating strawberry shortcake.

aaaand. . . going to a chocolate factory.

Such is the nightly routine of my sweet girl. She is always going to dream of playing games in a tent with us and eating whatever suits her fancy that day (unless we read or watched Willy Wonka).

But how often have we played games in a tent?

Recently, not much.

It is 8:30 at night, when I'm sitting at the lonely computer, that all I want to do is play games in a tent. But, I can't. My babies are sleeping (or at least they better be!)

We bought this new house, complete with an office for me to work in. I've taken advantage of it. I've been home at bedtime so much more over the last several months than I had in a very long time. But now I want more.

I want to be able to play games with the kids, not just tuck them in. I want to be in their classrooms, not just hear about their days. I totally understand why being a stay at home mom would rock.

Don't get me wrong. I still love my work. I'm enjoying my new practice area. And we can't afford for me not to work (especially with the new house and an old house that is still in need of a renter--YIKES!)

But, sometimes, I want to play games in a tent with my babies and eat yummy foods, not just dream about it.

Barely Holding On

I have been so crazy, so overwhelmed recently, that I think its safe to say I'm on the tightrope, but just barely. I'm only holding on by a couple of fingers while a tiny bird pecks at them, in the rain, with the wind blowing, and a giant gorilla is jumping down the line.

Lucky for me, that damn gorilla should wander away this afternoon after he realizes we held on and close on our forever home.  The trick will be to stop the rain and get our current house rented out and fully move.

I'm learning to work with the wind. I'm taking over the practice area of a colleague moving on to bigger and better things. It is exciting and scary all at once and a career move I relish.

I'm never going to get back on the line though and feel safe until that little bird stops pecking at my fingers. DQ has not been improving since my last post and her episode. I've watched her start to look worse and worse. She is showing more and concerning symptoms daily. Tomorrow, we see the cardiologist; the bird will fly away or start pecking harder.

I guess I'll just have to find a way to put on gloves.

It's all about balance . . . isn't it?

As a young woman, beginning my life, I was told over and over again that I could have it all. I could be the working mom. I could be a professional. I could do it all. The only limit was my dreams.

But that's not true.

You can't live all of your dreams at once, unless you are incredibly lucky. And let's face it, most of us are not that lucky.

To succeed as a mom, you need to invest a lot of time. To succeed as a wife, you need to invest a lot of time. To succeed professionally, you need to invest a lot of time. To maintain sanity, you need time to yourself.

All of it takes time. But you can't buy time. So you can't buy your dreams. You must choose.  And even if you think you have no choice, you are still choosing. 

Everyone will tell you that the trick is to find the correct balance of each facet of life to feel like you haven't given up on everything.

Balance.

That's what it's all about. Or so they try to make us believe. I constantly read articles on how to achieve balance. They all promise the same thing: if you balance your life, you WILL be happy.

But, you know what I think?

I think achieving balance is bull.  The people who sell us "balance" are the same ones who once told me the only limit was my dreams.  Life makes it difficult, if not impossible, to balance everything. There will always be something tipping the scales and attempting to knock us down.

The real trick is to stay on the line when the wind is blowing you over. You don't have to be balanced all the time. You just have to make sure you don't fall off.

I've been pretty close to falling the last couple of weeks. In order to stay on the line though, I had to let go of blogging and reading blogs for a while.  I hope some of the other things can fall away soon, so I can return to the blogosphere, but for today, I wanted you all to know that I'm still here.

Fraud

I haven't been posting because I feel like a fraud.

In my last real post, Thursday night, I wrote how I intended to make "me time", how I was just going to plan it and make it happen because I am worth it.  Unfortunately, I was quickly reminded the next morning of why I don't normally have me time: the Dancing Queen's precarious health.  We spend so much time on doctor's appointments, therapy, procedures, etc, that "me time" is swallowed up by being a "normal" family, work, and sleep. And I can't just make "me time" happen unless I forgo sleep (much like I am doing right at this moment).

That is why I feel like a fraud. I promised to myself only a couple of days ago that I was going to make time for me and the very next morning, the promise was broken. I don't know how to rectify this or if rectification is necessary, but I do know that I don't feel right.  I feel guilty for declaring that I enjoyed the time away from my kids because for a moment I didn't realize that the Dancing Queen wasn't doing well (because I didn't see her for a couple of days). I feel guilty for making myself a promise (that was told to the world no less) and know it can't be kept (not with DQ home from school two days, three appointments this week alone, then school starting next week).

And maybe "guilt" isn't even the right word. But I don't feel right about my "me" post, but I also feel like I was right in the sentiment behind it. I am worth "me time". I am more than just my family and work, but in order to keep it all going, I have to continue putting myself further behind.

I also don't feel right about wanting to take time away from my kids and taking care of them because it is not their fault either. As much as I didn't ask to be the parent of a special need's child, the Dancing Queen didn't ask to be born with a horrific set of conditions that threaten her life and make everything more difficult, even the easy stuff like, breathing and eating.

And so I feel like a fraud. My statements on this blog last Thursday, while heart-felt at the time, were not quite right. And this blog is merely an extension of me, so I have felt not quite right. I am not that together. It is not as easy as scheduling "me time".

Me Time

We got a surprise this week. My mom came to watch the kids on Tuesday when the Dancing Queen couldn't go to school because of her fever the night before and at the end of the night, she took the kids home for the week.  (Their cousins are in town from out of state and she wanted them all to spend time together. And she always dreamed of being a full time baby sitter for her grandkids, just as my paternal grandma did for us.)

Anyway, I found myself sans kids for several days. The Mad Scientist and I think it is probably the longest we have ever been away from the Dancing Queen.  (She has been knocked unconscious for much longer periods of time, but we were still by her side.)

It was nice. I was able to sleep in later in the morning and get to work earlier. And the only thing keeping me awake at night was myself. There was no crying, no nightmares, no worrying that the kids are too cold and wondering if I should check on them.  It was very freeing.

The best part of it all was getting up in the morning and having the house all to myself. I made coffee and sat at my computer, reading what I wanted without interruption. It was so very wonderful.

Of course, I have been going through kid withdrawl and I am beyond excited that my kids will be home tomorrow evening. I miss them so much, especially when so many heart kids are going through very rough times. I just want to go to their room right now and hug them like I do every night, but they are not there.

Still, this time away from my sweet babies made me realize that while I have been very good about getting myself out of the funk I was in earlier this year, I still have a long way to go in making time for just me. I've been better. This blog is good for that. I take time to write posts when I need to get my thoughts out there.  But, I still don't have enough time set aside for me to be me. I don't normally have time to sit back and enjoy my coffee. I'm either guzzling it on the way out the door, leaving it untouched on the counter, or drinking at my desk at work.

The biggest difference that I noticed with the kids gone is that I feel less guilt. If I take the time to check my email or read the news in the mornings, I usually feel guilty because I should be spending that time with the kids or I should be making their breakfast so we get out the door quicker, so I get to work quicker, so I get home quicker and actually manage to see the kids before they go to bed. But this week, I didn't feel guilty because the only thing I had to do was get myself to work and back. I still saw the Mad Scientist. We had some nice dinners together.

The moral of the story is that that I am tired of the guilt. And tired of no me time.

So, when the kids come back, I intend to change my attitude about myself. I am worth more. And being a working mom doesn't mean that I have to put myself last on the priority list. If I prioritize myself and know I have time set aside for just me, then I think the rest will fall into place.

If I schedule "me time", just like I schedule everything else, I should be able to make it happen. If I know there will be me time, I won't try to continuously sneak in a minute here or there to be me. I can enjoy my time with my kids because that is kid time. I can work when at work because it is work time. I can fully be with my husband when I'm with my husband because it his time. And when it is my time with just me, everyone else can fend for themselves. I think that sounds fair. I am worth it!

What do you do to not lose yourself as a mom?

Balance

I read several blogs today. That is not surprising. I do that most days. What was surprising was that in about half of those posts, the women said they were trying to find a way to balance their lives. Each time I read that, I said to myself "isn't that the truth." I mean, my whole blog is about learning to balance life, with the emphasis on learning. I haven't achieved balance yet.

But since this is "Funambulism for Beginners", I thought I'd share with you the most valuable tool I have for tightrope walking: my wonderful and amazing husband. Without him, I couldn't do any of this. He holds me up when I am falling. And he does the majority of household duties because of my long hours put in as an attorney.

My husband does most of the cleaning. He does about 99% of the real cooking. He gives the kids their baths (Mostly because it scares the hell out of me to watch them in the bathtub. I'm always petrified they are going to dry drown.  I should never have read that article years ago!!!!)  He splits time with me at the hospital when DQ is there. We each do 24 hour shifts, but sometimes, he will take more shifts if I have to work. He usually drives when we go places. He takes care of the bills. He cuts the lawn and takes out the trash. And he works full time, leaving our house at 5:00am each morning so he can be home in time to pick the kids up from school at the end of the day.

Simply put, the Mad Scientist does all of the "woman's" work and the "man's" work.

Seeing it all in writing makes me look like I do nothing. Many times, that is how I feel, especially the last couple of weeks since I've been sick.  The Mad Scientist has taken care of me and even called the doctor's office for me when my voice was so weak, I couldn't talk on a phone (I still can't).

But what the Mad Scientist does for me the most is love me completely. He loves me when I don't have the time or energy to help around the house. He loves me when I freak out about the kids. He loves me when I go crazy grumpy because I am worried. He loves me when I stay at work until after bed time every night in the same week. He loves me ragged t-shirts and holely cotton shorts.

He loves me.

And despite the giant pain in the ass that I am so much of the time, he tells me frequently that he'd still marry me. I never thought I'd be so lucky to have such a wonderful man love me. Yet I do.

And I love him. Immeasurably.