The older I get, the more I realize, time is a funny thing. Mostly, I am wondering where "the time" went. A usual day for me starts with 2 kids trying to get into bed and putting their cold feet on me. The actual time is between 6:30 and 7 am. It's pretty much guaranteed that they will appear every morning. B on my left and T on my right. After a few unrestful minutes, I convince them, and myself, to get up and face the day in front of us. I often dream of staying in bed longer, like I did at one point in my life, but with R's work schedule, I am a solo parent at least 50% of the time. Our days start slow, but quickly gain momentum within 5 minutes of trying to convince the mini peeps to eat a bowl of cereal. One does gladly. One eats half. One throws it on the floor because they prefer something else. I often mutter, "I don't have time for this." and I am on to the next thing, trying to get them dressed.
With me in Drill Sargent mode, we get dressed, brush teeth, drop off at multiple schools, go to the Y to work out, and run an errand or 2. That is my "normal" routine before lunch. With adrenaline pumping, I race through life as if I am late and in a hurry. In reality, I am not late. I am usually 10 minutes early because I am a type A person from the North East and I put a high value being on time. It is so bad that if I am actually right on time, I feel as if I am late. In return for my rushing around like a lunatic, I have kids that practically march at times. I have imposed my ideas about being able to control time onto my Minis, that the oldest often asks, "Are we late?".
As I am racing through my day, I oddly enough have "time" to snap a picture of me and a kid or two appearing carefree, relaxed, well-rested, and full of joy and love with sunshine and big fluffy white clouds. I shush the kids, because they are just asking about a snack...again, and quickly post the picture on Instagram and Facebook. With the right angles and a cool filter, it can appear that my house is clean and decorated just like all those other cool houses on Pinterest. In reality, I am in a filthy house with 3 very opinionated, small creatures that want to cling by my side like a shadow, but rarely agree with any of my brilliant ideas, such a quiet time. I rush people with legs half the size of mine, yet make them wait for me to post a picture, showing just how "blessed" my life is.
Since everything with my back has happened, time has changed. It is like a bomb went off initially and my life has been in fast forward. I am realizing, that unless you lived in a time in which you had a VCR to fast-forward to your well worn VHS to your favorite New Kids song, in order to learn the sweet dance moves, you may not be familiar with fast-forward....or New Kids on the Block. So sad! On the flip side, for the past 8 weeks, my life has felt like it's been in slow motion. Often I feel in a daze and ask "What just happened?". My old "normal" isn't my current "normal". Events that I once looked forward to are still written in on the calender. The time blocked off for a special event that now I am unable to attend, and often find myself wishing the day would pass quickly, as to not remind me of what I am missing. Days drag on and weeks feels like for ever, although I am often reminded by others that this is a "season". "Season" is code word a sucky time in your life in which others want to remind you it won't last for ever. But you know what, sucky still sucks.
At one point, when things felt busy, I was wishing I had more time. Now I have more time and what do I do with it? Often, I have tried to fill it with things I used to do before, Facebook and Instagram. Where they once were a quick mental vacation from the kids, now they feel like the party that you weren't invited to. I know it's not personal. My body physically can't handle much at this point, but I get a flash back to 2nd grade and feel as if I am hearing about a fun sleep over that I wasn't invited to. Everyone on social media looks happy, well dressed. Fuck, I've been in the same outfit for a few days and still can't get dressed by myself. Gosh, I'd love to go out and get drinks with friends, but sitting upright in a chair just to eat dinner with my family is tiring, not to mention painful. Therefore, I am signing off. Not completely, but taking bigger breaks away for my emotional health.
I find myself now in a different situation; so much time that I don't know what to do with it. Limited in my abilities, old hobbies are off the table. I find myself with the opportunity to relax. I can actually watch my kids as they play instead of just monitoring intermittently to make sure they don't run over their sister. I am trying to find hope in this "season", although the restless me is dying to go out and play as well.
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