All the Things

Yesterday, I woke up determined to be Super Mom and do All the Things.

spinning plates

{spinning plates – just in case it looks like UFOs beaming people up or something}

I would promptly respond to my 5yo son’s request for help or to play. I would make all the calls I have been putting off. I would get to the odd tasks – like laminating the house crests from Harry Potter so my teenagers could hang them on their wall (they are still HUGE fans).

I did tons of laundry, I charged long-dead electronics, I put a screen back in an upstairs window. I outlined a plan for work for the next month and found good homes for extra food leftover from a big event.

I even followed through with my plan to drink 64 ounces of water.

I was ON FIRE.

And you know what? By the evening, I was crabby, cranky, and ended up hiding in my room for more than an hour, just to get away from All the People and All the Things vying for my attention.

One constant thread of critical self-reflection runs through each of my days: Am I doing the best I can? Am I doing enough? Is this what I should be doing? If not, then what? I have a (likely unhealthy) preoccupation with marking every minute of my days, wondering – JUDGING – if it is time well-spent.

I usually fall short of my own expectations, so for one day, I was determined to get it all right.

But it didn’t feel right at all. Because opening ¬†myself up carte blanche like that was exhausting. And I realized that as much as I could possibly give, it would never be enough. There will always be more, more, more that needs attention in my home and in my life.

And one thing I should have paid attention to – an important medical shot I was supposed to get – I had completely forgotten about. Oh, the irony. Taking care of everything, but forgetting to take care of myself.

For now, I’m just struggling along, trying to find my place between Slacker Mom and Super Mom, and hoping that whatever Mom my kids get on any given day, it’s enough – for all of us.