Take this morning for example. I got up at 6am, showered, got the kids ready and fed, Lily to the bus at 7:30 and me out the door at the same time with Bryson. Late to Bryson's physical therapy appointment, again. One solid hour trying to get Bryson to do what he is being asked to do, bend his feet in a way he doesn't want to bend them. She is once again amazed by how "busy" he is. She wants to know if he has trouble paying attention at home. He doesn't and I say so. But an alarm goes off in my head, because someone just asked me if something could be wrong with my busy kid. Even though I know nothing is, I don't even like the question.
We leave, on the way out I see a mom slowly walking behind her child who walks with braces on her arms and legs. I tell myself to be grateful as Bryson runs ahead of me. I can't muster it though, I feel sort of numb today and it's barely 9am.
I get him situated with the nanny for a day of fun at the Children's Museum. I watch my younger two kids dance away hand in hand excited about what the day has in store for them. And I long to be the one who gets to do it with them.
On the way to work, I pass an accident that has been the reason for the traffic. I think about how I should be glad it's not me waiting for the tow truck. But I roll my eyes at my attempt to be positive.
I hear a belt or the breaks squealing on our Toyota as I drive. It's been going on for weeks, I feel a twinge of failing that I cannot find time to get this fixed. That feeling worsens when I pull into the parking garage with my window open and I can hear it echoing against all wall of the cement underground cave. I'm embarrassed. Sigh. I think about when, who, can take the car in. Will there ever be a minute to breath, to stop calendaring? My stream of consciousness races ahead while I try to figure it out.
Tomorrow need the truck for Addie drop off, no school for Lily, Monday Bryson dentist appointment, what's for dinner tonight, baseball, car seat shuffles, can someone watch Brys tonight at practice while dad is coaching, shoot forgot Lawr's allergy prescription, need to research and budget for summer camps, where is the form to order team pictures, OH!Addie's class pic is tomorrow, did a form come for that...I walk in my office at 10am. I haven't eaten anything yet and I feel funky. I look at the piles and lists I left for myself last night as I raced out at 6:30 bound and determined to meet my goal of not missing any bedtimes for work in April. So many things to do, and it seems like all my employees are waiting for me to answer a question or go over something. No one asks why I'm just arriving at 10.
I want to throw my hands in the air, because this day is not out out of the normal, but it's one of those days that it's all too much. The only thing that keeps me from giving up for today is that I know that would just get me further behind. The "luxury" of taking care of my body last month has already set me back a week, as have all these dr/dentist/pt/gyn/counseling appointments I've gone to for myself and my kids. I think I've used all my sick time for the year 2 hrs at a time.
I don't want to complain or be negative, so I close off from talking with anyone about anything other than logistics. Then I feel lonely. I look at the scar on my face and wonder when it's going to get better, I wonder how it could only have been a month ago that cancer was in place of that scar. I'm annoyed at myself for not remembering to be grateful for that scar, to think it's beautiful. But I'm too tired to care about trying to remember that. I want to sulk instead. I wore make-up today for the first time since my surgery. It doesn't help much. Everyone says that my scar looks so good, but I can't see past it when I look in the mirror with my self critical eyes.
Emails come from friends who want to meet up, who haven't seen me in a month, or two months, or longer. Voicemails are built up on the phone which say basically the same. Every pleasant conversation I have with someone ends in a question of when we can have a playdate or lunch or coffee or a night out or a family get together. That makes me want to cry, avoid them, just to avoid looking at my calendar and seeing there isn't room for any of the good stuff.
Usually I can pull myself up, and be grateful and positive. But the truth is rat racing can just suck your soul. I don't want to live a life where I just keep up, barely, with the demands. I want a life in which I thrive. I usually have that. This weekend I had that. Easter was an amazing and incredible day. Four days later, I'm filled with rage that things look like this. I mad that enjoying my weekend a little too much leaves me with no groceries or put away laundry. I'm just annoyed that this is what things look like today.
Tomorrow is a new day. My kids are amazing and my husband deserves a medal for all the work he has put in this week. Each of them has given me something sweet and special each day this week, that I have put in my pocket and smiled about. Each of them is smart and funny with a good heart.
I, too, have a good beautiful heart. I know this. It think that is why on a day like today, it grieves me that too much rat racing makes it so that I can't see it.