I had an impulse to totally spill the contents of my mind, without any thought of censorship, because I need to and I have about an hour where I don't have to tend to the thousand things on a list....but upon arriving to the cafe, I opened email to discover news of my dear friend Gry's labor and the birth of her newborn daughter, Alma, in Denmark.
I burst into tears. And here I am, moments later, still pulling myself together, but not all together. And the copious items on my list seem inconsequential in comparison to this other glorious event.
River's teacher called to say that she had a hard morning, cried for twenty minutes about tea spilling on her shirt, and she won't eat lunch. "Is something going on at home?"
"Um, we gave the cat away last night (Bye, kiddy, yu goeen new house, bye bye). Racoons came in and peed all over the bathroom and ate River's muffin, leaving it in a pile on the floor (Daddy, coons ate mufeen, coons come, coons eat River's food!). We looked at four houses this weekend to rent for three weeks. ("Dis our new house, mama??") We're moving to a different new house. Her sister is leaving for college. We're packing her toys. That's about it...."
Meanwhile, the new owners have changed the move date twice. So twice I call back our mover and the storage place and renegotiate dates and cost. Changed the rental house contract, too. Our realtor informs me that (oops) our washer and dryer are included in the sale. The new owner keeps asking if I will be leaving things for them....and I want to scream at her that we are already spending thousands of dollars to move twice, etc. She's in my kitchen right now with her contractor (can't she wait a few weeks?) Apparently not. Our realtor informs me that they can come in as many times as they want until escrow closes. Truly, not a moment to myself to exhale.
The minute one step resolves, another piece of the equation waves at me. Oh, right, plans for the remodel at the new house. Have I ever remodeled before? No. Will I have the plans complete, choosing paint, tiles, fixtures, tubs, closet configurations in a week or two? Yep.
I'm bitching. Totally bitching. I just feel like I am doing 95% of everything to do with this major transition. Should I bitch about that? Organizing all the financial information that is not yet organized. Who will pack if I spend hours and hours on that? And who will tend to my daughter if I am doing those things?
I can't do it all....but I am. I notice that I do everything that needs to be done, then am too tired to take care of myself at the end of the night. Others in my family take care of themselves first. You do the math.
Is it wise to accept this as my training? I'm learning a lot. I think I could manage a large business confidently at this point. Is this my training....and my practice? Or am I a martyr? In any given situation (especially a family) there is only so much one can control or change. I do ask for help, do hire help when I can, but I find myself holding most of the details of daily functioning......and I don't know if that's normal. Is that my job?
My husband calls. I say, "I have a five page list of stuff that needs to get done before moving to Portland." He's working out. He says, "Oh, I thought you called for sex."