Tag Archives | commitments

A Break from Routine

By on October 6, 2010 in Change, Deployment, Fun
The word "chocolate" originates in M...
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I woke up at 4AM, then 5AM and almost got up then but I felt so awful I just could not do it. I eventually fell back to sleep, but of course the sleep quality was poor. Then I proceeded to beat myself up for not just getting up at 5AM. It is virtually impossible to function well on 6 hours of sleep consistently. Maybe some can do it, but not I. I have a work call first thing this morning and then I have volunteered to go on a field trip with my son. I fell like a terrible mother for wishing that I had not raised my hand for this outing because I really could use the time to catch up on work and all of the cleaning that I have let slide over the last few weeks. In the end I am happy to spend time with my son and am so glad that I get this chance to participate in a school outing.

We walk to the movie theater in a steady drizzle, herding a hoard of 10 and 11 year olds through traffic. I set aside thoughts of what I could be, should be doing at home and try to stay focused on what I am doing right now. It is not fair to either my children or me if while I am with them my mind is elsewhere. The movie is a pleasant respite from the pressures of my outside life. No phone, no email, unplugged for a couple of hours and how quickly sanity returns. On our way back I am reminded that this is my “real” job, my real purpose, everything that I am living for. I work to pay the bills and I do gain some level of satisfaction from that, but that is not my life’s purpose. This moment, this afternoon, this is life.

I am in a much different state of mind after school, so calm and so focused. I don’t rush home to check my email. Instead Elijah and I go out for hot cocoa, and then I decide that what I need most today is to get my home in order. Work will pile up for tomorrow, but I need to get my “center” back. I clean my car out, wash 2 loads of laundry, vacuum and dust the downstairs, clean the kitchen floor and get out the rest of my fall and early winter wardrobe. By the time I sit down to write this I realize that ironically this is a complete 180 degree turn from the state I woke in this morning. Now I just have to figure out how to maintain my equilibrium for the next 3 months…

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Another Painting Sunday

By on October 3, 2010 in Deployment
Dried green paint
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Sunday means it’s time to go to mom’s house for another session of painting. I started on the front door Saturday only to find that the paint was the wrong color. So, it’s back to Lowes again today for more paint and supplies. While we are there we get more rocks for the landscaping and we impulsively stop at a roadside stand and pick up a pumpkin for mom on our way. It only goes downhill from there. As I am painting yet another coat of paint on the door, I accidentally tip over the paint can onto the sidewalk. It is a disaster. Just what I needed. So we mop up the spill with paper towels, then hi-ho hi-ho it’s back to Lowes we go for more paint and this time cement cleaner and a wire brush. I haven’t even made it to the back door yet. Elijah spends much of the afternoon spraying, scrubbing and washing the stain while I try to finish the entrance doors. When I can almost see the finish line, we discover that we have to go pick up ceiling tiles for my brother-in-laws project this evening. I must be Lowes’ customer of the day at least. This is my 3rd trip in one day for supplies, but nothing special happens. No lights, no bells, no extra discount, just the rolling of the cart and the beeping of the register.

What I anticipated as being an afternoon project for a few hours turned into an all-day loss. We are heading home at 7:30 pm and I realize that I still have to stop and drop off boxes to my sister, shower and eat dinner before my Skype date night with Anthony. I just want to cry, but I don’t. There are clothes still in the washer, tracked in dirt on the floor, dog messes in the backyard and my new car is now a wreck from hauling stones and supplies. I am so tired, I almost wish I could just postpone my date, skip dinner and bathing and fall in bed. But I don’t because I need that connection time with my husband, I need to eat and I do not have time to wash my sheets if I climb into bed dirty!

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A Sad Anniversary is Hard

By on July 19, 2010 in Deployment, Emotions, Stress

Today was both sorrowful and triumphant; a swirl of desperate emotions that threatened to overwhelm, but instead encouraged in an odd and unexpected way.  Today is the anniversary of my father’s death. It has been 4 years now and in a detached way, I am curious to see how the day unfolds. Will it be absolutely awful or less painful than previous years? I feel some guilt that I am moving on with my day, with my life in fact, but that is what must be done.

Work is a bit hurried and stressful today. I am increasingly having trouble juggling my responsibilities, clients and work. I just keep thinking that if I could plan out my days in a more efficient fashion, it would all get done. I am a productivity expert after all; I should be able to figure it out. My morning work runs late, a client cancels and I just decide I need to escape. Elijah and I go to the movies for an impulsive afternoon diversion and are surprised that we enjoy ourselves tremendously. I chat with my sister and have a brief visit with my mom before I am off to my evening meeting and then a stop at the cemetery on my way home.

I struggle all day with the underlying grief. I shed only a few tears, but the ache is there like a dull throbbing twinge that will not go away. I discover that instead of being shattered, I am strengthened by the memories. I am reminded once again that life is too short and that I must follow my heart and be not afraid of other’s opinions. I am feeling so emboldened that at my meeting I announce to the cemetery board that I will not be renewing my term as treasurer. I need to start slashing my commitments, because I have come to realize the awful truth that I do not have any time for me. I am getting lost in my daily shuffle and I never will find myself again if I do not stand up for myself.

I visit my father’s grave as I do frequently and this time though tears threaten, I can almost hear him say, “Atta girl. You’re going to be fine.” I reply more to myself than to him, “Yeah dad, I am.” For the first time I smile as I leave the cemetery.

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