I work so damn hard.
I get up around 5 AM and leave around 6 AM. I get in to work around 7 AM and work my ass off until about 4 PM. I work in a very fast-paced, often high-stress environment and I love it. I often need the hour drive home to attempt to come down from my adrenaline high and prepare to put my Mom Hat on. Which I do when I get home a little after 5 PM until Kiddo goes to bed at 8 PM. Those three hours are often the craziest of my day, however, as I play “Babies,” which consists of putting my old Cabbage Patch Kids on their stomachs, covering them with “blanket” hand towels, patting them to sleep, getting them up again and repeating this process one hundred times.
I then wrangle her unwillingly into the bathtub and into her pajamas, which is the equivalent of wrestling a screaming, greased bear. The best part of the evening is when we lay in my bed for a half hour or so cuddling and watching Pocoyo to unwind from our day. Then bedtime at 8 PM for her and time for me to attempt to eat something from somewhere. And do laundry, clean the bathroom or kitchen, sometimes finish up some work for the next day at the office, clean toys up off the floor and attempt to wax my upper lip and shave my legs (YEAH RIGHT). Some nights I just say Fuck It and collapse on the couch to watch Homeland. Forget having a social life (that’s what Facebook is for, I guess). And forget trying to write or keep up with this blog. It’s getting harder and harder.
I miss it. The writing. The performing. The Live Lit, of which Chicago has an amazing, vibrant local scene. I used to do the Live Lit rounds, but I just simply do not have time anymore. And it stings, it does. There is nothing like sharing the stage and stories with some amazing writers and friends, the communal nature of it all. But I have my priorities in check, of which are 1) being a good mother to my kid, 2) CHASE PAPER, GET MONEY and 3) Keep my health and sanity. Beyond that, there’s not room for much else.
And then there is this ahead of me:
My life is very busy and at times chaotic, but it is also very full and I am very happy. There are times when I miss the things I used to do, like dinners with friends downtown, sleeping in, brunch (ahhh, brunch, I do miss brunch), or writing coherently. But those things may have to wait. I have been told that it gets easier. That two is a hard age for kids and soon she’ll be more independent and I’ll have more time. And I’ll get to dedicate some time to myself. I dream of yoga classes. And reading a book again. And writing more.
Then again… “Writers write.” Where there is a will, there is a way.