I get asked a lot, "How do you do it?"
|Making tortillas like a boss.|
How do I write everyday, work during the week, have time for painting and projects and puppies and pies? It's not a terribly good habit, actually.
I multi-task. I think I have so many balls in the air right now (projects I'm working on, projects I'd like to do, errands, books to read, events to plan) they could hire me at Ringling and charge to see me sweat.
"COME LOOK AT THE CONSTANTLY OVER-ACHIEVING WIFE! HERE SHE IS BUDGETING HER EXPENSES WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY PAINTING HER TOENAILS, WATCHING A TV SHOW, CALLING HER MOTHER, COOKING DINNER AAAAAAAND SEWING A PILLOW SHE'LL BLOG ABOUT TOMORROW!" It's all in my head, it's all in my head, I have to remind myself.
|Mr. E caught me in bed...avoiding folding our laundry...by pushing it to his side of the bed.|
I am my own worst critic. I am also my best cheerleader. I see a recipe and I'm already calculating how much it'll cost to make, whether I have the ingredients, whether Mr. E will eat it and whether or not it'll freeze well for next month. A new holiday-themed craft? If I don't have the supplies already, I'll scrimp the extra pennies off the food-budget or make-do with what I have already. Frankenstein projects are my specialty.
And while I'm doing a lot, when I sit back and have the time to think, it hits me. I don't think I'm living my life to it's fullest. Yes, I'm cramming every available second into sewing or cutting or apartment hunting or dog training (we'll master "Stay" someday), but I'm not living in the moment. I'm living from list entry to list entry.
My coffee table is covered in thread because I can't finish a project I started for Christmas. My bedside table holds a pillow I still haven't hemmed because nobody sits on it so the stuffing won't fall out.
I find myself at work organizing and re-organizing because our system is falling to pieces and expectations aren't being met. But I'm thinking of the paint chip scraps I've reminded myself to bag for the last three days currently littering the dinner table or the book I'd really like to get back to so I can cross it off my 52 Books This Year goal. It's times like these I need to realize, I can do anything. But I can't do everything. It's time to calm down. To smell the flowers- or the two fall-scented candles I bought in order to use the containers once the candle burned out. Both are still half full. Life isn't a list. It's not "10 Things to Do Before You Die", it's not "100 Books You MUST Read" or "13 Ways to Tell Your Husband You Love Him". Life isn't living project to project, getting things done or being productive. I find a lot of happiness in those things, but that isn't THE thing. Life is organic. It's fluid. It grows, it swells, it breathes.Life moves pretty fast. And if I don't slow down once in a while, I might miss it.So, April, I'm ready for you. I'm not starting anything new. I'm finishing EVERYTHING this month. I'm organizing...to get rid of junk. I'm sewing...only with fabric I have. I'm mailing boxes. I'm selling on Craigslist. I'm donating.
I'm not taking on anything else on my plate. Because these years are precious to me. This time with my husband, this house, this lifestyle. Before I know it, we're moving- and I don't want to look back on loose ends and regrets.