You didn't even know I was gone, did you?
I went to visit my sisters' on the other side of the country. It was a root beer float lovin', board game playin', late night talks, hurricane simulatin' rip-snortin' good time.
When I saw my sisters, we ran to each other and fell into a big group hug and cried. There is a big part of me that is missing when I am not with them. My sisters bring out the best in me. They make me laugh until my sides hurt and I'm sure my cheeks are going to fall off. They dip into my emotions and make me figure things out about myself that I couldn't figure out alone. They make me stay up until disgraceful hours discussing the intricacies of life. I love my sisters.
It was even better that I got to go alone. Without kids. Just me. Five hours on the plane, just to myself. aaahhh! If I felt drowsy, I could just take a nap.
If I wanted to sit and do a crossword puzzle, or read a book, I didn't have to take care of anyone first. Bliss. I remember a time when that was my life, but it's a distant, hazy memory.
While I was there, kidless, discussing the intricacies of life, I had a lot of time to think. We started talking about dark secrets. Do you have any? I'm sorry to say that I'm too boring for deep, dark secrets. My worst one was that I sometimes brush my teeth in the shower (my sister then admitted to sometimes cleaning the shower while she's in the shower. That way, you get a longer shower, and the shower's clean when you get out. Genius.) But I've thought of one that I should confess. Here goes: I have a hard time staying disciplined (whew! Glad I got that off my chest). seriously, when my alarm goes off in the morning, I usually turn it off and go back to sleep. When my alarm goes off at night to tell me to go to bed (oh, don't you set your alarm to go to bed? no? huh. I guess it's just me then.) I usually just shut it off and go back to what I was doing.
I try to put up a good, perfect facade that I do so many things, but the truth is that I am tenacious at what I am doing at any given moment. I'm blogging, I don't want to do anything else. I read books in hours instead of days because I don't want to put it down until I'm done. If I have a sewing project, my house falls apart until it's done. On clean the house day, I put my blinders on and plow through until it's done.
I don't think this is all bad. I think tenacity is a good skill to have, but it does come with its pitfalls.
As a mother and homemaker, it is absolutely not good to put the blinders on and ignore everything else until what I'm doing is done. That's when Bogey washes dishes in the toilet and then cuts his own hair. As a mother, blinders aren't good. Maybe if I was a fast talkin' career gal, blinders would be good. Then I'd be an excellent employee with great benefits and a raise every year. I'm a mother. I don't get raises. (I do the raising. ha ha!)
But I think I'm doing ok, for the most part. I mean, my kids are happy and healthy, and they know that I love them. My house is clean, mostly, and I work hard to make sure there is good food on the table (with the occasional pizza thrown in). I just think that, like most of you, I have room for improvement. That's ok (I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to me now. It's ok, Erin that you are not perfect. Halt the guilt!). I'm also telling me that while I was kidless, it was nice to focus so much time on what I wanted to do. I wrote a lot more. I read those novels I've been hoping to get to. I slept in. And that's ok, too. Now If I could just figure out a way to mesh Kidless me with Homemaker me. Then I would be . . . . KidMaker Erin--wait, I'm already that. ok, then KidHome Erin? LessMaker Erin? HomeLess Erin?
When I became a mother, it was like I had to crowd to make room for a new person. No, I mean, inside me. No, I mean, another me. And the two of me have been battling for stage time every since.
Homemaker Erin demands that I bake and cook and clean and sew and can and do all things motherly. I like her. She's smart. She's kind. And she smells like homemade bread. She plans wonderfully educational activities for her children and is amazing at picking mushy ground in cheerios out of the carpet.
Kidless Erin demands that I read and write and start no less than five at home businesses. She has a perfect haircut and flawless makeup. She's put together, well-rested and confident. I like her, too. She's interesting to talk to.
Homemaker Erin and Kidless Erin don't hate each other. They just have a hard time getting along in the same body. And sadly, Kidless Erin has lost many a battle.
Bogey just told me that it was dinner time, and that he wanted Pizza Ice Cream for dinner.
So. . . .
How to you mesh KidLess You and Homemaker You?