Thursday, June 27, 2013

When Giving Up Is Awesome

So you might not know that I am really pathetic.
Right down to the core of me I am so riddled with "quirks" (lets call all of my flaws "quirks") that I am like a swiss cheese of humanity.
And these "quirks" seem to blossom in the hot and humid air of summer.
The first two weeks without school almost did me in. I was trying to keep up my writing schedule with two giddy and active girls running circles around my rolling chair.
Which made me cranky.
Which made me irritable.
Which made me rude.
Which made me feel guilty.
Which made me feel worthless.
Which made me wish that I believed in drinking alcohol because I had quite a few days when I was wiping tears off my face and wishing I could saunter up to a bar and tell the keep to give me one straight.
In fact, the whole bottle.
I've never had a drop of alcohol, but trust me, a few days had me daydreaming...

So summer nearly turned me
 from a functioning human being into a 
whiskey-drowning bar hopper.

Luckily, I came up with a better plan.
I gave up.
I completely gave up on trying to to accomplish anything. Which felt awful. For three days.
And then it felt great. And then I couldn't remember why I was trying to fit in a career in the middle of being a homemaker, house manager, caretaker and business partner to my husband.
And I made a deal with my children.
We wake up, we clean up, we tidy up and when the house looks great (which only takes about half an hour) we are free to play.
Every day we go to the zoo or the movies or swimming or shopping or exploring and I can't for the life of me figure out why it was so hard to let go.

I'm grateful that when I cannot accomplish everything all at once, all the time, it doesn't matter.
The world didn't stop spinning through space.
The sun didn't stop slathering us with its fierce summer heat.
My career didn't fall apart when I left it to simmer on the back burner.
At least, I don't think so.
And if it did, if I can't stir it back up and get it going in six weeks when I have a few hours a day to work, then I'm glad my family doesn't attach my worth with what I publish.
And if it tanks and I feel sad, my family will take me to the zoo.
And buy me a ticket for the tram.
Double Score!