I was going to go to yoga (at 6:37 a.m. this morning) and then I wasn’t going to go (by 7:04 a.m., as I frantically tried to find a reasonably clean pair of yoga pants.) By 7:13, it was on again, as I threw an old tank top on under an older t-shirt and tried to swoop up my day in my arms before hitting the road to drop the kids at school. It was hot yoga from 7-8:30, coffee with friend to celebrate her 40th birthday, lunch meeting at noon across town, then back to Lakeway for 3 shopping returns, 2 errands and a bathroom break. That was BEFORE picking up my kids, who got in the car screaming at each other and immediately started in with, we’re hungry, we’re thirsty, we want you to drop everything and pay attention to us right now.
Due to a fiercely intense yoga class (and my inability to get my shit together before I leave the house in the morning) I spent the entire day in a damp t-shirt that never dried, smelling my own sweat…but what the heck…it rained all day, so I would have stayed soaked anyway. I can only imagine what my lunch meeting thought as I walked in, frazzled, hair out to next year, after hoofing 3 blocks (due to horrific holiday parking) in the pouring rain.
After picking up the children and assuring them that a box labeled “5th Avenue” doesn’t guarantee a gift from the American Girl store in New York, more errands. And then home..where I assisted in cleaning a guinea pig cage, changing the cat liter box, washing a sink full of dishes, answering 17 student emails, making at least 6 separate snacks and meals over the course of 4 hours, vacuuming the entire house and hand-washing two filthy guinea pigs that were squealing and trying to get away from me the entire time. Oh, and let’s not forget the washing machine–I don’t even bother counting laundry as a chore anymore. It’s just kind of what I do–you know, when my eyes are open.
What’s the point? I don’t know. I don’t really have one. Nothing spiritual comes to mind at the moment. The world seems full of madness. So many people coming and going as if they exist alone, in some centrifugal spiral. You know what that means? Centrifugal force (from the Latin, centrum, meaning “center” and fugere, meaning, “to flee,”)represents the effects of inertia (non-movement) as it arises in connection with rotation. Fleeing the center! I sort of picture Frozone, suspended in mid-air and waiting for rescue.
But I’m no superhero. Quite the opposite. The home room mother of 1st grade (I think I’ve written about her before on this blog), now she’s a force to be reckoned with! One of the women who came to the birthday coffee party this morning–she made HANDMADE truffles, in a pink baker’s box. They had personalized little tags in them that said things like: 40 & Fabulous. They were white frosted with pink stripes. Some had glitter. Jesus.
I want to make fun of the home room mom. A year ago, six months ago, yesterday, I would have. But today I realized that they have something I want a little more of. They have this immaculate attention to detail. My husband has it as well. First semester at the University of Texas, Austin…full-time student, dad, husband, sober, running two small businesses and remodeling a kitchen–straight As! Who can do that?
I’m feeling not enough today. Like I wish I was a little more…capable, important, together, presentable (the sweaty yoga t-shirt…that was really bad!) But I am what I am. And I have to love that today I left my house at 7:17 a.m. and I stayed out all day, keeping my commitments, showing up (in spite of how I looked) and hooking into the good stuff in life–my friends, and my family, and my well-being. There was a time in my life when I couldn’t get out of the closet. And I never forget that that’s where I come from. My perfectionism will be the death of me. It’s a defect. And sooner or later it will eat my lunch.
Some days, the best you can hope for is midnight, and an uninterrupted night’s sleep.