Do you ever feel like one of those people in a movie who’s being drawn and quartered - I mean someone who’s being pulled in four directions at the same time?
In 1960, Mom was raising 9 kids and running her own beauty business but, looking back, the truly amazing thing is that we always wore clean clothes to school and came home to find a warm dinner on the table.
I can’t even begin to compete with her.
There’s only one possible explanation: Mom must have been using some sort of magic. I just don’t know why she never shared her secret or, more importantly, any of her spells.
I know I’m supposed to be the lucky one; today we’re all living the easy life, in a world of high technology where everything is right at our fingertips. But as I travel down this crowded information highway, using my cell phone, fax and mapquest, somehow I’m still lost. And I can’t even seem to figure out what I’m looking for.
It’s that elusive, simple, four-letter word that keeps avoiding me: time.
Maybe it’s because being a Mom is one occupation where none of the usual rules apply. What other job offers no training or has you on-call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no time-off or vacations? You aren’t even guaranteed an 8-hour sleep break. And there’s no financial incentive to compel you into this chaotic career choice. You can’t even expect a paycheck, commission or bonus at the end of the month. Yet educated people actually choose this occupation and, when they finally are initiated into the sisterhood, they happily celebrate the onslaught of morning sickness, nightly trips to the toilet and elastic waistbands, with a party – commonly known as a shower. And this is the only shower that you’ll share, with a bunch of other women. What could be worse?
Everyone gets to sit around and guess your ballooning weight, while you sit and smile.
Parenting is like playing in the stock market – it’s all about patience and long term investment.
With such a simple game and only one rule, it should be easy - right?
Wrong!
Then, if you try to add an additional goal, like writing to the mix – well, watch out. You’re in for a heap of a helping of the hurries.
Just this Saturday morning, I got up at six – on a Saturday – took the dogs for a walk (look how they’ve grown).
Then I went to my writer’s group (which I could have skipped but here's the commitment to the craft part), I'm planning to go berry picking, make some homemade jam and write. Well, somewhere something has to give – right – not necessarily so. I’m committed to my craft – or maybe I should simply be committed.
Over the next week, I’ll give tips, hints and maybe a little crazy advice on how to “Just Do It”.
If you have any helpful hints, please post them in the comments section.
And, just remember, no parent is perfect so play this game like a little league game and, when reality pitches a problem across your home plate, swing your sense of humor - that way, you may not hit a homerun but at least you’ll never strike out.
(My critique group: Pam, Ila, Jen, Kerry, Kristin, and me)