A Blur

My MIL asked me recently if I felt the year was going quickly by. Quickly no, confusingly, slipping through my fingers, yes. I'm hoping to get a bit of a breather soon, so maybe I can get a handle on life and come up for air. It's been quite a ride so far.

January, the kids and I were sick, but we got better. DH was sick and never got better, leading to February when he spent that disagreeable patch in the hospital and we learned how much guess work there is in modern medicine, why doctors 'practice' and how ridiculous it is to be married to the "Mystery Man of the hospital." DH spiked his crazy fever on my birthday, was in doctors' offices and the ER most of the rest of that week and in the hospital the following week. The next few weeks, he was under strict orders to rest and heal from the mystery illness. (No, we still have no idea what he even had, aside from the lethal allergic reactions to two different antibiotics) The clue to me of how sick he actually was, was that he rested. He didn't go to work for far longer than he ever has; he didn't even check in (after that embarrassing part in the hospital where he insisted on calling and emailing and in his delirium producing incoherent 'work' product, some with no verbs whatsoever) and suddenly, it was March 21 and we realized we had lost an entire month. Gone.

After awaking from our illness induced fog, March 26th DH left for Connecticut to help out on a trial for 3 days. He came home early Easter Sunday morning (no that doesn't actually equal 3 days) for 44 hours, during which time he conducted Easter services at church, and worked remotely on the same trial for at least 24 of those hours before returning to Connecticut. He came "home" again for about a week during which time he spent 2 days in SLC and several other days conducting long conference calls to the trial site. Then on April 29, he caught the red eye back to Connecticut for most of May, returning for 20 hours here and there so that he could attend meetings, doctors' appointments (remember, he had just been in the hospital) a dance recital, Cub scout day camp (no, not Mother's Day) etc.

Easter Sunday

M in her first dance recital

M and her beloved preschool teacher at "Gratulations"

During the same time he was gone, it was May, that time of year when everything is scheduled. Most evenings I had no fewer than 2 places I was supposed to be at the same time. I got grumpy, selfish and tired and let far too many things fall through the cracks. I know plenty of people who have it harder than this on a regular basis and who do a far better job than I. DH finally came home late Tuesday night, went to the 3rd grade overnight field trip on Wed/Thursday, attended preschool graduation and conducted a funeral on Friday. And then we celebrated a largely uncomplicated Memorial Day weekend. Perhaps soon we can breathe. I realize what a blessing this is.

I say all this not to brag, to complain or really even to vent, but merely to record because if I could lose an entire month between February 21 and March 21, I could lose the first half of this year, if I'm not careful. I'm trying to remind myself of perspective. I have a dear friend whose husband and his business are having legal trouble. She has a full and crazy family and she was taking the bar exam, which is a full body mess of insanity all on its own. She was feeling a bit justifiably self-absorbed and grumpy. She sat down at her test taking table the first morning of the bar exam. These tables are shared by two people--one on either corner (I have vivid nightmares memories of my own time at those tables). She asked her table mate what she had planned for after the test that first day (there are 3). Table mate said "chemo." My dear friend said all her complaints, grumps and justifiable problems left her mind at that moment. This woman was going to chemo in the middle of the three day bar exam. She was trying to stay alive. Perspective. It's a powerful tool, if you can keep it.

Getting Stuck

I get stuck a lot. Stuck commenting on a thought provoking article, stuck reading one more chapter in a book, stuck on FB, just stuck. Most of the time I just battle trying not to get stuck and feeling frustrated at all the things I don't get done and the time that seeps through my fingers as a result.


I've been feeling like I need to get up earlier (yes, this is a recurring theme). It's always a battle with me, and a battle with my children who invariably have nightmares, illnesses and growing pains that get them up in the night (or that prevent them from going to bed in a timely fashion in the first place) and it's even more of a battle when DH is out of town because I get stuck, again, and don't go to sleep in a timely fashion either. But there's that feeling, niggling, telling me I need to get up earlier. Yesterday, I got up a little earlier, enough so that I was dressed before family scripture study (not ready, just dressed to drive kidlets hither and yon). That helped. The day went a little more smoothly. Then, to add to my quest for health and to encourage me to be tired enough to go to bed decently, I've been trying to exercise at night--just a little, maybe fifteen minutes of weights, thirty minutes of yoga, a little samba/capoeira DVD I have. I did that; it helped.

So, this morning, I got up even a little bit earlier, sufficiently to encourage CE to stop ignoring her alarm and finish her homework, sufficiently to get dressed AND read my own personal scriptures before family scripture time AND time to meander a bit, checking all the blogs that make me think, the FB that I check in with and email--all the places that I often get stuck on. I got a little stuck, but not too bad. Then, the morning collected itself, I took the kidlets hither and yon and because I had already allowed myself some wandering time, I listened to the responsible part of my brain that said "make bread, practice your piano, exercise" (all with the "help" of 4yo M to keep it interesting). And here I sit now, with two loaves of pretty whole wheat bread, made with freshly ground wheat (yes, I feel a little like the little red hen), piano practiced (well as much as stupid sore hands will allow), boot camp exercise DVD done, M fed snacks and placed in front of Phineas and Ferb so that I can take a shower. And it's not even lunch time yet. I don't feel frazzled. There may be something to this getting up earlier, if only that I can feed that part of me that needs to get stuck a little, first thing and then move on to necessary and productive pursuits.