See this face?
(Yes, it's mine; you are correct. No you can't have it; yes, I realize you'd probably never want....especially if you could see it all up close and personal life. Can you say, "Wrinkles at thirty-two" ? I can.)
This is the face a girl who's failing miserably.
If you do recall, in January I choose a word for 2012.
My word for this year?
Well, at four months in, I can already tell you that this has been a big, fat, fail in the most failiest of failing sense.
I genuinely want to be that mom who has time to sit and play Pictionary before bed, who can still do everything and be everywhere and be everyone to everyone.
Never gonna happen.
Who am I kidding?
My calendar is booked solid.
I literally don't have an open weekend until July...and even then I only have one available.
It's teetering on the edge of ridiculous and tottering on the edge of borderline insane.
The truth is: I LIKE MY PLATE FULLER THAN MOST.
I was the girl in college who could take eighteen hours (five of them being lit. classes that required at least a novel per class per week...and don't even get me started on the papers I had to write. Trust me, you don't wanna go there.), hold an office (or two) in my social club (Your college may have sororities. Mine has social clubs. Tit for tat.), serve as an SGA senator, write for my college's newspaper, plan a golf tournament for charity, work out daily, watch all the TV my heart desired, make a 3.8 GPA for the semester, spend hours a day being silly and doing nothing, and still have time to spend hours giggling with my girlfriends. Granted I didn't sleep at all in college, but WHO CARED? Sleep was a thing you did when you were old.
Well, now I'm old.
I must sleep. Do you hear me? It's non-optional at this point.
But that's just it... everything in my life right now FEELS like it's non-optional. I love it all. There's nothing I feel like I can cut, hence the FAILING MISERABLY I mentioned earlier.
The problem is, I give so much of myself to my friends (whom I love), my Christian non-profit that I serve on a board for (never gonna stop loving this one. Don't even try to touch it. It's untouchable and completely and utterly non-optional), my household responsibilities (the cooking and cleaning and whatnot that one can only put on the back burner for so long), my other commitments in and about that I truly enjoy, trying to squeeze in time with my girlfriends (none of whom live close to me, I might add), and my job, that at the end of the day I feel like my kids and the hubby get what's LEFT instead of what's BEST of me.
Clearly, this is not okay.
It's not who I want to be or what I want to teach my kiddos.
I don't want to feel like my family time is something else for me to try to squeeze onto the last free line in my planner.
That is most definitely NOT how it is supposed to be.
I know this. I get it. I can see it clearly. I ever preach it to my friends.
But I stink at taking my own advice.
I was recently reminded of this when reading 7. I'm pretty sure that Jen Hatmaker wrote this section with me in mind. I overbook, overload, over plan. I give away way too much of myself to this and that and essentially leave what's left of me for God and my family.
I have to make it all work and keep juggling all of these balls in the air or I'm literally afraid they might all come crashing down around me. Pretty sure it'd take a St. Bernard or two to find me underneath all that I've got on my plate. You know- the one I like fuller than most.
I like to be busy.
I like to be involved.
I like to participate and sign up and volunteer.
But something's gotta give.
So, this is me trying (again) to prioritize. To say no. To cut back. To breathe. To plan everything around my time with God and my time with my family rather than vice versa. If no one is dying or bleeding, it's not an emergency. It can wait. It will be okay. The world will not end if I'm not in charge of that or if I let someone else take care of it.
*Note: If you see me out and about and hearing me chanting anything of things to myself, please just ignore me and walk the other way. I apologize in advance.*
So, my lovely readers. Thoughts on this? Advice? Do try to be kind, please.
But I would love to hear how YOU make it work?
And if you don't make it work, share that too.
We can fail miserably together.