Today, after leaving the home for 4.5 hours to take my oldest to physical therapy and crew practice and to sit in traffic for 3 hours of that time, I walked in the home and said, "I am really in a lot of trouble."
No one really cared. They usually do not care much about what I am saying and often just think I am hysterical, angry, blaming them for my problems and annoying. They don't explicitly say this, but the blank looks and the hiding give my family away: they do not want to hear about it.
And I don't blame them because I don't want to hear about it either. I am sick of hearing myself panic and freak out over everything. My brain is literally exploding with things that need to be done--outfits and recipes and laundry and planning and events and tickets and balloons and cupcakes and bathing suits and papers and readings and work and emails and meetings and dog poop pick up and plants and exercise and doctors appointments and what's for dinner two weeks from today?
I am sick of myself.
I do get advice from time to time that I don't have to do it all. I understand the spirit of the advice; but if I don't it, then who will? My role is the doer and overthinker of everything. Yes, of course, my husband does plenty. But, I don't think his mind is overrun like mine. We are different in this way. And it is okay. It isn't his fault that most of the emails from teams and teachers come directly to me or that the school always calls me first.
The world is set up this way.
Anyway, you might be wondering what I meant by being in a lot of trouble. I am just drowning a bit, as I always do in May and June. This year feels like it's so much more precarious. I started school on Monday. Lily is training so much and so often for her big race in Florida. Chloe and Nick have one thousand wonderful things. Mike has a wonderful, fulfilling job where he is really appreciated and really successful. I am not sure where I fit into all of that exactly--it seems I am here to help make that it happen, which is an honor and a privilege.
At the same time, I feel myself getting smaller in the midst of the madness. So this weekend, I am not going to do much of anything except to dig myself out of this mental drowning trouble a bit. I am going to wear my favorite clothes, put on some lipstick, read a few good books, conjure up a project that won't get done until July 4, putter in the garden, lounge at the pool, troll the Farmer's Market, eat at my favorite restaurant and have drinks with people I love.
Okay, I just listed a lot of things, I know.
But those are things that make me, me. And that's what I need more of this weekend.