Friday, July 8, 2011

Footing

I am trying to find it. My footing. I have really big feet (a 10...the flip flops I have on are an 11...and I will never admit that again) so losing my ground, slipping around and fumbling to get these legs under me, is noticeable, and not at all pretty.

I have a hard time pointing these things out, finding the exact words, explaining where the scowling, frazzled-looks, snapping, quick tears, and so un-silly (and I'd like to think unlike me) moments/hours/days come from. I said not more than an hour ago that it had to do with feeling like I was losing some control, the balancing act is off balance, and that's partially true....but a bigger part of these creeper feelings comes from lusting after some spontaneity. It comes from not going after those little thoughts (that admittedly turn into big obsessive thoughts sometimes) that wander into my head during a work day that is making me want to wander out the door of my building.

Example: Wouldn't it be SO nice to pick up N from day care, meet Super Dad at home,pretend we are tourists, drive to one of many amazing lighthouses, order hot dogs and fries, and eat them wearing sweatshirts and watching the waves crash over the rocks?

SO nice. It wreaks of Summer. Summer on the east coast. Memories of my tourist grandparents, my sometimes spontaneous parents, my big brother, and my Big Wave dreams.

Reality: Pick up N from daycare, she is dirtier than any child has been EVER, she hasn't napped (and it should be noted that she also battled her 412th ear infection this week), Super Dad has battled a crazy week at work, has a surprise party to get to, and I have a stomach ache from eating a burrito bigger than my head earlier in the day. We try to go out and grab a bite to eat, the kid falls asleep the second the car starts, and then the parents snap at each other out of disappointment and frustration. 

Sitcom script?  

I am over-the-top blessed/lucky in my life. Man. It makes me tear up just thinking about how crazy-good I have everything. And we work hard at making all we want to happen, happen. We succeed more often than not (maybe more often than most?). But sometimes...all that scheduling, all that hard work, all that BALANCE....is a gigantic pain in my a s s. I think about it all. the. time. And then I think about riding off into the sunset with my disgustingly adorable family and WHAP. I remember my kid never naps, my lovely husband works 50+ hours a week, and I don't know how to say no to a burrito. Or a play date. Or a birthday party. Or an invite to a BBQ. Or, or, or.

I am a planner. I like to find balance (and control, yes). But I also like pretending I'm a tourist, throwing my big ideas at people, going out in my pajamas, and so many other silly, life-affirming, spontaneous things. Those are the things clawing at my lumpy throat, bogging down my over-worked mind, and causing me to shoot lasers out of my eyes when things don't go my dreamy way.

*SIGH*

I have a 2 and a half (plus a month or two) year old, a husband, a house, a dog, a cat, loads of friends who I adore, want to support, and cherish everyday, and the coolest family on the planet....and really big (sometimes size 11) feet. It's in there. My control of letting go of control? Maybe. But I'm in here, finding my way to the surface of schedules, and am ready to start telling the sched exactly where it can go. 

To the coast, on the rocks, with hot dogs and fries, and really big East Coast waves. 

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