I am a mom. A wife. A friend. A daughter. A teacher. A writer. I try to be so many things to so many people but when I stop to think about it I come up feeling like sometimes I am nothing much to anyone. My life is full.
“Do you think I could have Alzheimer’s?” I ask my family and friends when I show up on the wrong day for a kid’s birthday party, again. I’ve typed a wrong date into my icalendar. At least I show up (that isn’t always even the case.) My loved ones say, “No way, your life is just full. Stop worrying.” Then I wonder if maybe this is just what pre-menopause feels like or adult ADD. My life is full.
Life seemed less complicated ten years ago before my first child was born when I rocked a paper calendar. Today, as I try to keep track of three demanding kids and the many emails, Facebook posts, notes, events and schedules that clutter up my phone I find it is near impossible. I wonder if is this because my phone allows me to do so many things that my brain just can’t keep up or if it’s because I’m ten years older with more responsibilities and cloudier in my synapses. My life is full.
Steve Jobs – you were an evil man. Hormones – you are worse than lice. Because of both of you, I (like a clown), juggle my life away. I beg of you, peer moms, to clue me in on the secret that you possess which allows you to keep your lives glued together. I need to know what I’m missing that will allow me to stay fit, relaxed and on top of things because I’m struggling here. My life is full.
I pack my day so tightly that it nearly busts at the seems. I run from school drop-off, to the gym, to write, to lunch volunteer, to food shopping, to after school activities and once the end of the day draws near I can barely speak let alone read my children’s’ bedtime stories. My life is full.
I’m lucky because my children long, all of them still, for me to lie in bed with them wrapped in cuddles and reading those stories. I’m grateful that I’m still in this phase of life. So many nights as I lie with them, though, my mind drifts away too busy with pressing thoughts to appreciate the moment, when I know I should. I get angry with myself when I wish away the time so I can get back to my phone or computer and check my email and Facebook status likes. My life is full.
I want to say the right things to my tween when she comes home from school sad because she’s had a bad day but so many times all I really want to do is to have some quiet time and a cappuccino. Soon, she will only be asking her friends for advice and then I’ll have the time for relaxation. Will I still want it if I can actually have it? My life is full.
My son pushes me to the point of exhaustion. Much of the time I tune him out just to survive. He has so many interesting things to say that if I truly listened to his words every time he spoke; I would be clued into the workings of an amazing mind. But then I’d never get out of the house in the morning because getting him dressed is, like the song says, to throw a whirling dervish out of whirl. My life is full.
My youngest isn’t really a baby at all because she has somehow grown magnificently into toddlerhood without me even realizing it. I can see her fleeting, little baby curls giving way to big girl length tresses, her gibberish words have formed into real ones. Blah blah is banana. I never knew what she was saying and now it so clear. I want to yell no to scream out at her “Wait, please slow down.” My life is full.
My phone has just dinged with a text that is likely pressing. I also must get to the grocery store. I beg of you, little ones, hold on just a moment and we will continue where we left off, tomorrow. Air kisses. Another day. I am a mom. A wife. A friend. A daughter. A teacher. A writer. I am many things to many people. My life is full.