On Saturday night at 10pm I called my mom in tears. I was bawling. Like my 7 week old son. Nothign was wrong, other than that I was overwhelmed. Too many things done and yet to do in too few hours. Between Chase (who recommended I call my mom) and my mom, I got calmed down and we figured out what to cut out of the schedule so I could function as a wife and mother again rather than as a 7 week old.
I told this to a friend yesterday and she pointed out that I seem to get overwhelmed like that once every few months. She was being nice. What she meant was that I get overwhelmed once every few weeks few days. Honestly, since Connor was born, I feel like the pattern is this: Talk with my significant other about how we need to cut things out; cut out one tiny expectation for tomorrow; say yes to way too many things over the next few days; freak out again; talk with my significant other about how we need to cut things out; cut out one tiny expectation for tomorrow; say yes to way too many...
It's like Lamb Chop's Song that Never Ends (yes, it goes on and on my friends...).
Maybe it's how I need to live my life. Maybe I need that kind of stress to feel like I'm thriving? That's pretty crazy. I think I should change something, but I'm not sure what to change.
Despite my best efforts to cut out unreasonable expectations, the truth is that I still like to have my laundry mostly caught up, folded and put away; my dishes mostly done; and my house somewhat clean (though don't expect it to be dusted. I hate that job and only rarely do it. Why can I let dusting go, but not other things?) And then there are those tasks that end up on my long term to-do list. Like cleaning out the fridge (how does it get so gross?), wiping down the blinds in the kitchen (this has been on the to-do list since we moved in a year and 3 months ago - clearly I never get that far down the list), shaving the dog (I tell myself I save between $30 and $50 by doing it myself every time. It doesn't help.), redoing the flower bed on the side of the house (like that's going to happen - it's on the "wishful thinking" list), and cleaning the oven (seriously. It's gross!).
Maybe your list looks a little different, but you know what I mean? It's that little rain cloud of to-dos that follows you around day after day, week after week, month after month, and you just get to a point where you HAVE to cross something off? That was me yesterday morning.
The task of choice (or necessity for my sanity) was cleaning the oven. I was armed, prepared, ready! I had looked on Pinterest for the cheapest, easiest, safest way to clean the oven. Me, my gloves, and baking soda were ready to take on the charred nastiness of the interior of that appliance. It took me all morning. All. Morning. My oven was really dirty, but the Pinterest recommendation worked like a charm. I was just busy with other things... Lily played pretty well on her own, and Connor wasn't fussy, but he was awake.
Great! I figured. Maybe I could check off two things in one day! It would be a miracle! I didn't care about my laundry. Dishes? What are those? My oven was getting cleaned and perhaps (Perhaps!) one more thing would get done too!
Connor went down for his afternoon nap (always AT LEAST 2 hours worth), Lily was settled in front of an 80 minute movie. I was good to shave the dog - a 60 minute task!
So I thought. I ended up getting about 20 minutes into it before Connor woke up. This was just enough time to shave Frazier's head almost back to his ears. I tried over the course of the next 30 minutes to make something work - get Connor back to sleep, keep Connor happy watching the shaving in the garage, pacifier, no pacifier, swing, bouncy seat, floor time, tummy time, all to no avail.
I finally gave up and jumped in the shower to the serenading of Connor's screams. He wasn't fussy. Just wanted to be held. And awake. Awake practically all day yesterday. Someone should tell him that 7 week olds should take at least 3 naps a day. *sigh*
Some friends stopped by late in the afternoon for just a bit, and I had no problem letting them sit in my living room amidst the disaster. My oven was clean for heaven's sake! That was success!
I called my mom who came over after she got off work to wrangle kids so I could finish the shave. I even got in another shower before we bid Grandma farewell. It was then that I remembered that I'd left the bathroom rugs on the clothesline in the back of the house.
Frazier, Lily, Connor and I trooped around the house. Frazier started tracking a rabbit into the neighbor's yard, Lily followed him, and Connor and I stood by the clothesline calling for them to come back. At that very moment, I heard an "Excuse me," coming from the front of the house.
That lady who I sold that thing to off of buy-sell-trade was here to pick it up! I got Lily, and she and Fraz trailed me to the side door where I showed the lady in and we made our exchange. I walked her out, waved goodbye and returned to the den where I took a moment to look at what she saw.
It was like a slow motion scene in a movie where the parents walk in and see the disaster made by the kids. Stuff was EVERYWHERE. How did I let that happen? Kids clothes strewn all over amidst 3 different storage bins out to switch sizes in closets, bags from our shopping trip thrown on the floor, tools that I simply hadn't put away laying in easy reach of kids, and toys spewed out of their toy box like they were supposed to be omniscient - everywhere at once, and Lily's Hello Kitty tent, set up in the middle of it all.
I ran a bath for Lily, stuck Connor in his bouncy seat and started to dry my still wet hair all the while fretting about what this person (who I didn't even know) saw and, consequently, what she must think of me (I'm SURE she cleaned that thing she bought really well before she used it - I would have if I were her, though it wasn't dirty...). I wanted to Facebook her before/after pictures of my dog and my oven with a note that these were my major accomplishments for the day. Sure my house was a disaster, but the inside of my oven and outside of my dog looked great!
Then I glanced in the mirror:
Happy little faces. Fed. Content. Clean (or at least getting there via bubble bath). Mine. Priceless.
It seems like I must daily be reminded that these little faces - their hearts, their character, the essence of who they are and will become - are my priorities. And while a certain level of sanity for me is essential to care for them well, in reality, my house, my oven, my dog, and what people think of me are small potatoes compared to them.
Mommy of 2 seems to me like it gets harder rather than easier as the weeks go by. I'm not really sure why. There's more to do, less time to do it, and each day I get farther away from the last time I really got a good night's sleep. Maybe that's why. It's bound to change at some point, right? But.
But it is sanctifying. It is challenging. It is wonderful. It is hard. It is worth it. It is my life, a gift given by a graceful, loving God. These challenges I face that feel so overwhelming in the moment are smaller than ant hills in the broad scheme of things. I know that. Especially to those of you who are facing real challenges. Believe me, I know how small my challenges are at the moment. I mean, just think what it must be like to be a mom of 3...
I'm sorry. I can't handle thinking about that right now. Someday, maybe, I'll have to/get to think about *gulp* 3. But for now, I'll just keep after it with 2, and praise the Lord that this is my life.
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