Playing Catch Up

Do you ever have a to do list that makes you so anxious just looking at it that you decide to throw it away??   I have spent the evening trying to catch up on various neglected household tasks, and finally I threw in the towel and have spent the better part of the last hour surfing the web.

How are we mommies ever supposed to get everything done?   My friend Jody put it well… “By the time I finish vacuuming the house, the dust bunnies have come back to the room I started in!”   I have a pile of mail to open and file that has grown so large, it just fell to the floor.   I am a fanatic about cleaning, so that’s where my time is usually spent, but then when do I have time to match the ever-multiplying pile of socks that need a mate?   When do I actually fill in the blanks in my Bible study book in time to meet with my ladies?   When do I iron that skirt I’ve been dying to wear, but can’t because it’s resembling a Sharpe?   Most of all, when do I take the time to do those sit ups I keep thinking about, or those yoga moves I used to love so much?

As I often sing to Kenny, “Iiiiii don’t wanna work / I want to play with my kid all day…”   I am finally realizing, though, that no one else has it all together, either.   If my nails are crying out for a manicure, when I steal a glance at the mom next to me in the grocery line, I see that her three inch roots are crying harder.   And the day that I spent an hour in the Safeway with my fly down,  mascara on one eye  and mismatching earrings, I  could name half a dozen other  people that  I  saw there looking even more disheveled – and they weren’t even toting kids.  

I am also struggling with “taking time to grieve.”   Frankly, I don’t like to, as much as I know I need to.   When I’m alone – at naptime, or on nights Casey works late, it’s like, if I stay busy enough mopping the floor and folding shirts, I don’t have to think about the three beautiful babies up in heaven.     I do find myself crying a little here and there when I’m playing with Kenny.   I am so sad for the brothers or sisters that he will never know. I see how elated he is when we have playdates or outings to the park where there are “KIDS!” and my heart twists, praying that he will grow up with a sibling or two to share his days with.   I am so thankful, though, that he is too young to understand what we have lost.

For now, though, it’s back to the stack of laundry that needs to make it up the stairs sometime this week, or at least before the next load makes it’s way down to be washed.