This post is going to be mouthier than my usual posts, okay? Because when you have time, you write shorter letters, and when you don’t, you overshare (and you also don’t research deeply enough to figure out whether the shorter-letter quote should be attributed to Twain, Cicero, or Pascal – I give up, guys. I don’t care. Fight it out amongst yourselves on the other side.)
I need to update this blog and I put pressure on myself that I need to do it in a fun, creative, engaging, and appropriate way, but you know what? I am busy. Crazy. Busy. My calendar is not only full at this point, people, it is color coded. COLOR CODED. Or else I will forget where I live.
Exhibit A: Parenting. It’s intense. And awesome. My son is awesome. He is almost five. He tells me every day how many days there are left until he turns five. He is excited, because duh. Five is a very big deal. We’re preparing for the fifth birthday. It will involve cake. He wants it to be frosted entirely pink and then covered in raspberries. Originally, when we looked at cake pictures, he wanted this cake:
I had to break it to him that Mommy is not That Mommy. Once upon a time, I anticipated being That Mommy. I envisioned Martha-Stewart levels of festive yet classy domesticity. Now it is a good day when there is no cat vomit on the floor. (But I could totally make that cake. TOTALLY MAKE IT. Except no time.)
My son is also going to have a new sister in a couple of months, so we’re preparing for her too. Every day, we’re getting the boy off to daycare and Pre-K and field trips and play dates and swimming lessons, and somehow we are getting him fed and bathed and making sure his clothes are laundered and he brings thematically appropriate objects on his show and tell days, and I keep telling myself Enjoy this, because this is what CALM looks like. Adults still outnumber children in this house. Two months from now, you are going to experience a whole new level of insanity.
It’s cool, though. I’ll be fine. Because of my awesome paid maternity leave, and my nanny, and my housekeeping help and… wait. Nope. None of those things. I’m thinking of an episode of Friends.
Exhibit B: Teaching. I’ll keep this part brief. Maybe.
I teach middle school full time, and I teach three preps. I hold myself to a pretty high standard, so I go kind of insane on a daily basis trying to make sure that ALL THE THINGS are planned and executed in the ways that are best for my students. I have roughly 150 students. I love them. Outside of my family and friends, my students are the most important and amazing people in my world, and they give me energy that no Red Bull can ever give a person, not that I would know, as I have never drunk a Red Bull, because once I took a taste of one, and it was vile. So teaching is worth the stress. But it’s a hard job, and it’s underpaid, and all those things that you already know, or maybe you don’t, but I don’t have time to break it down for you. I also direct the school play. It has to be done before Thanksgiving because of IMPENDING BABY. So we’re all in go mode here, people. Big time.
Exhibit C: Writing.
Oh, writing. You poor, sad, neglected little monkey. I love you, I swear I do. I’m sorry that you have been shoved into a corner and starved these past few months. I barreled through 201 pages of copy edit today, like a boss, so you know I haven’t completely forgotten you, but deeper creativity? Drafting new things? Yeah, that’s not happening right now.
But it will. It always does. Even if it has to force itself in like flowers cracking concrete.
Verdict:
I’m actually really happy, because all of these demands are happy demands. I love them all. The tough part is not being able to split into three of myself and do all the things as hard and as well as I want. And sometimes, mainly because I’m afraid I’ll let somebody down – my son, my husband, my principal, my students, my editor, my mother, my SELF – I get pretty beat, and it takes somebody who is outside of my head to help me recover my willingness to push on. Yesterday, that person was a coworker, who said to me out of the blue: “When I feel overwhelmed, I think of you, and I think, if she can do all of that, I can do this.” And you know what? I needed that. I really did. That comment made me stronger, and it dug me right out of the muck I was about to sink into, Artax style. It was a brief, important kindness. Regardless of how busy we are, we all need to take the time to be nice to another human being for five seconds, because it might be five seconds that really matters to that other human being.
Okay. I have 7 more pages of copy edit to go in order to meet my goal today, so I’d better get to it.
Told ya this one would be mouthy.
odded ever so reluctantly to the table by their parents (thanks, parents!) Regardless of their reasons for picking up the book, I love interacting with them, asking them what grade they’re going into this year, what their favorite books are, what they’re reading right now, which color pen they’d like me to sign with. It’s never awkward with the kids. (No offense to the grown ups. I still love you. Thank you for buying the book.)
