At first, I just hadn't blogged in a few days. I meant to write about Monkey's birthday at the end of August, but ended up working late that day. I thought that I would write about it that weekend, but some home projects popped up that had to be attended to.
I would think that I was going to sit down and write each day, and then suddenly, it was half way through September and I had no idea where the time had gone. But I still felt that I wasn't that far behind on things and could easily catch up.
Then yesterday, my mother called me about early ordering things for Christmas and my boys asked when we were going to get their Halloween costumes. That's when it hit me how far behind things I had fallen.
In my mind, I'm still at the end of August, summer is just wrapping up, we've just started back to school, the holidays are not breathing down my neck, and I've got plenty of time to do everything. In reality, it's been almost two months since I've written anything, winter is fast approaching, and I'm behind in everything.
I find myself each night at 10 pm, still rushing between dirty dishes, getting the crock pot set up for the next day's dinner, and piles of laundry. My have-to-do list overwhelms my every day and I never get to move on to my want-to-do list, which is where blogging is.
I often wonder how I became so busy. I've tried to scale back on things. I'm not taking on big projects, I'm working less. But each day seems to hold fewer hours. All the time I had to sit and write before, I have no idea where that time has gone.
I know it's an illusion to think that everyone else has their lives pulled together and is staying on top of things and that I'm the only person floundering under the pressures of every day. That perfect person is a fantasy I've created from my guilt of not being able to do a better job. But when I'm picking up my children from school while sporting wet hair, yoga pants and a Disney t-shirt that I had to smell before deciding I could wear them, and I realize that Duck ended up wearing pajamas to daycare and Monkey with wearing plaid shorts and a striped t-shirt and it's 40 degrees outside and he doesn't have a jacket and his shirt is backwards, and I'm planning on microwaving leftovers for dinner and serving them on paper plates...on those days, the parents who are wearing real clothes look like they have their lives all figured out.
A year ago, when I graduated from residency, I was so sure that everything was going to be so easy and simple and I would have oodles of time, so much time I wouldn't know what to do with it. All that time was also a pure fantasy. I work full time and have three children, one of which won't stop biting the cats. That time I thought I would have for Netflix marathons and naps just was never going to exist.
Although, in full disclosure, I have been reading novels. I haven't read novels since 2009. It's been wonderful to read again.
I'm reaching the conclusion that I may never have a pulled together look or free time to rearrange my tubberware drawer. But what I do have are free weekends and happy children to spend them with and a great deal of wonderful memories.
I'm going to get back to documenting those, all our family celebrations, our Midwest adventures, and my ongoing tumble of thoughts.