Mar 15

When is it enough?

So, my cousin-in-law posted a link on Facebook today that really resonated with me. I’ve never read this particular blog before and as much as I want to read regularly,  with all the other shit I have on my list, I just can’t feasibly say “YES! I will read this blog every time it updates!” because I’m a wife and a mother and an xray tech and an author and an editor.

To say that my life is crazy busy is the fucking understatement of the century. (PS: I’m not holding back on my bad language. I’m a former sailor who was raised in the oil field. To say I have a dirty mouth is like saying Tessa Bailey writes dirty-talking Alpha heroes. Duh.)

To give you a clue of what my typical day is like:

0430 – alarm goes off. shower. clothes. hair. COFFEE.
0515 – wake the child up. MORE COFFEE.
0530 – make sure the child is actually showering and not standing in the bathroom staring at herself in the mirror in a bleary eyed stupor and/or just singing rather than actually washing. 
0540 – rush to do the child’s hair
0545 – leave the house! fight traffic because it’s Houston and that’s what happens–even this early in the freaking morning.
0630 – get to work. makeup in the car. breakfast if I’m lucky. change into hospital scrubs.
0655 – clock in. work. maybe have time for lunch? never have time to sit. or drink water. or pee.
1515 – change into civilian clothes
1525 clock out. fight traffic home.
1630 – write and/or edit.
1800 – pick the child up from daycare/karate
1805 – start dinner
1900 – eat dinner. do dishes. make sure everyone has clothes for tomorrow. do laundry when the child proclaims she’s out of shirts/underthings/pants.
2000 – attempt to talk the child into showering so she doesn’t have to wake up at 5:15. fail miserably. write and/or edit some more because deadlines.
2055 – child’s bedtime routine! jammies, brush teeth, hugs/kisses/prayers/”just one story!”
2115 – lights out. time to cuddle with Mr Prince…and my laptop because, more writing and/or editing.
0000 – holy shit, where did the time go? I have to be up in a few hours! lights off. stare at the wall and think of the 1,000 things I have to do tomorrow.
(maybe) 0100 – sleep.

lather, rinse, repeat.

This is pretty much daily.

Y’all, I’m tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted. I love my job (all of them). I love being a mom. I love being a wife (when I don’t want to smother him in his sleep for the snoring, anyway). I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But sometimes I have to take some “me” time.

I go get a massage. I go to the FroYo shop and indulge (what? that shit is good). I get a mani/pedi (eyebrow waxing is NOT indulging, so that’s left for days when I’ve got errands to run). I sit on my happy fat ass and read a book. Whatever it takes to JUST RELAX.

Notice I did not mention a long, hot bath. Why? Because I don’t take baths. I take showers. They’re between five and ten minutes long (depending on whether or not I need to shave my legs) and efficient AF. Because the freaking Navy ingrained the habit in me to take super short showers. Thanks a lot, boot camp. *grumbles*

There are times when I’ve taken a little too much “me time.” Mostly, when I’m in a downphase and I can’t bring myself to get up off the couch because that Disney show Monkey left on is just too fascinating. Or something.

Those times can’t exactly be helped. I’m bipolar, and my moods cycle. But when I realize I’m in a downphase and my ass is superglued to the couch, I take some “me” time outside. Soak up some pretty Texas sunshine (before it gets too hot, of course. My pale ass burns like a fucking lobster if I’m out longer than thirty minutes). I take Monkey to the park or the library or the movies. And then, I get back home and take a day off the laptop (like I did Sunday). I clean the house and listen to some peppy, upbeat music.

Because that’s taking “me time” too. The family doesn’t want to be near me while I clean because I get a little…well, they sometimes call me The Terminator, if that means anything to you (and it should–that movie is a classic).

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