Something’s gotta give…

This post is a long time coming. I left my house this morning en route to work. It’s raining out, and the perfect day to hide under the covers and sleep or lazily watch movies. I can’t remember the last time I did that. I was ready to leave and as I grabbed my keys, I heard a giggle. I raised the volume of the monitor and out of it streamed the laughter of Ari and Nilsa. Rob was upstairs and they had just woken up. I don’t know what they were doing or what was going on. All I heard was the shrieks of happiness and giggles of joy from my 2 little imps. Nothing brings a bigger smile to my face. And yet, that happiness was stifled with the reality that I had to sneak away - out the door before they made their way downstairs. Not able to kiss their temples before I left because not only was I running behind but if they catch me before I leave I am at times met with tears and little hands grabbing me to play, to stay, to not go to work. And I hate to disappoint them with me leaving. So the sound of their laughter trailed behind me as I closed the door and stepped out into the rain, the gloom of the skies reflecting my mood.

It times like this that I curse the reality that currently is my life. I’m not complaining about my life. Or, better said, I’m not trying to. I know that as an adult, my job is to live my life in response to the obligations that I have. Though they are mostly monetary obligations, they help keep the roof over my head, food on the table and most especially, give my kids the kind of life that I want for them and keep those smiles on their faces. Almost every parent sacrifices something for the benefit of their kids. But sometimes, I question the quality of the sacrifice. I wonder if overall it will backfire. We’ve all heard the song “Cat’s in the Cradle” where the dad wants so much for his son he works and does and limits his time with his child to manage it. At the end of it all, he’s realized he didn’t spend enough time in life with his child and now his child has emulated the same philosophy with his children and the listener is left to wonder if that was a good or bad thing. I don’t’ want to wake up one day and see my children grown and not have been given the opportunity to really enjoy their growth.

I titled this blog when I was pregnant – attempting to defeat the superwoman syndrome was my mantra for while. It still kind of is. The purpose of it was to rant about the things in my head, purge them when necessary and to REMIND myself that I didn’t need to be superwoman, didn’t need to do everything and anything and that I needed to just focus on being the best that I could be. That meant I needed to stop the comparison to others. (I’ve done really well with this) and to limit the idea that there was an “IDEAL” person I needed to be (I’ve been only okay with this.) All and all I’ve been happy with the way things have been going, but now that Nilsa is almost 2 and Ari is almost 4, things have changed.

For the past few years I’ve worked, and worked, and worked some more, I’ve worked a lot. I’ve heard, more then I care to hear, the phrase “I don’t know how you do it.” To be honest, I really DON’T KNOW how I do it. I know that I manage the full time 8a-5p job Monday thru Friday, the evening meetings for Colorblind and the weekend weddings and events in part thanks to the extraordinary help and support from both Rob’s mother and my mother. I know I could not do what I do without them. They are a lifeline that I am blessed and grateful to have and I know I don’t’ tell them enough how important and how indispensable their help and support is. My kids are constantly loved and nurtured while we work and that is thanks to their grandparents. And Rob is a major player in getting life done. He’s taken on a role that most men would never even conceptualize. But internally, I/we sacrifice a lot of other things in the quest to keep this schedule

• Household duties go undone (laundry piles up; dusting takes a back seat, etc.)
  
  
• Sleep. Sometimes the only time available where the house is quiet and interruptions aren’t happening is late at night or super early morning. So sleep is lost in exchange to obligations (this is in large part a HUGE Rob sacrifice – as I’ve woken many times at 3am to find him on the computer working on editing pictures or video or such)
  
  
• Order/Organization. I was never a huge neat freak with everything labeled and arranged. But I did have a sort of organized chaos. I knew where everything was, could find things with relative ease and things were, in my unique way, organized. Now I waste precious time because nothing is in any kind of order, things are haphazardly strewn about and I’m lucky I remember my name at times. I avoid certain areas on purpose because it’s such a horrific mish mash that even if I had time I wouldn’t know WHERE to begin. And when I do try, it returns to its state of disarray soon after. I know those of you who come to our house go huh? as it really, from appearances, looks tidy. Our kids and their play things are relatively organized. It’s Rob and I and our respective paperwork that is not.
  
  
• Listening. (huh? what did you say?) yeah. In one ear and out the other syndrome when your mind is racing with everything you need/should be doing is viral in my home.
  
  
• Time. This is the thing that I think affects me most. Time is sacrificed - time with my husband, time with my kids (**most important**) and ultimately time with myself. Time is what I crave most. Worthwhile time that affords me to not only enjoy life but catch up with the aforementioned sacrifices.

I’m tired of this. Not the kind of tired where a good 10 hour sleep could take care of. It’s the kind of tired that’s synonymous with disgust. I’ve become jaded. My life, or the life that I now live, is disenchanting. Even things I love to do have come to overwhelm me to the point that it no longer brings me joy. I’m reaching my breaking point and I’m struggling to hold myself together. I’ve gone as far to saying the words “it’s not fair.” I’ve said these words before when the kids were infants. When I wanted me time and I wanted to escape the responsibilities of being a parent. What’s funny is that now I’m repeating the exact same sentiment and the reasoning is not to run away, but run towards my kids and my family. Now my lament is NOT having enough time with them, of not being around enough. I have come to realize that they really do need me most now. That this hugs and kisses stage and the wanting to be around me is what my life is now. That it won’t always be this way. That they’re not going to always need me. They’re not going to always want me around. I feel as if I’m missing out on this amazing time of their lives. This is the time of life when they are most innocent, most honest. They are sponges, learning each day and growing into their own person. They are genuine in spirit and in mind, love wholly and unconditionally and are unaffected by the negativity and sentiments of the outside world. It is a time to treasure.

And in this time I find myself a spectator rather then a participant. I spend the majority of my day in front of a computer doing a job I largely am uninterested in (lets be honest – I’m bored) and lamenting the time it cheats me from being with my children. I stare at their picture on my desk, look out the window at the sun and wish I was at the playground with them. Even on a day like today where the rain is coming down, I daydream of donning raincoats and splashing puddles. I ache at the reality that I have to ask permission to leave my office to attend any function and then need to hustle away from the joy of their smiles to the expectations of my work; work that brings me no joy or happiness. Work, that guilts me on time off because as an employee, they pay me and expect me to put them first. The same sting and sorrow I felt this morning upon walking away from their giggles I feel all day long. I know its going to get worse too. Ari starts school with all its events and participation opportunities and I want to be active in it. I don’t know how I could be with my current schedule. I’m tired of sacrificing my kids. I’m also tired of sacrificing the benefit I could be to colorblind (that’s another post altogether that is slightly similar to this one.) I’m genuinely tired of working so much. And I don’t know what it is I can do to help my current state. As it stands now, the only time I have with my kids is weekdays following work which just all out sucks. I’m tired after a long day, my patience is dwindled and I’m not in the best frame of mind to be the kind of mother and parent I should be to them. Beyond that, 2-3 hours before bed is not my ideal definition of “quality time.” I live for the rare weekends when I am free. My fondest memories with my kids happen between breakfast and 2pm. It is time stolen from me on a daily basis. I know many working mom’s that feel this way and I even find myself envious of them because they at the very least have weekends available.

I had a plan at the beginning of the year. Things looked to be going in one direction that would have probably benefited me the most, but that made a turn, and now my plans have been scrapped without any real options for new ones. And I honestly don’t think I can keep up at this pace much longer. Things don’t look encouraging and I struggle to ensure the melancholy I feel doesn’t overpower me. For now I take what time I can get, hold it dear and close to me and PRAY that I’ll have more time with them in the short term future. My biggest fear right now is not having the opportunity to enjoy this time and regretting not doing something to make that my reality.