Roads

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When Jax was one we lived in a little house in the ghetto. At the time I didn't realize we were living in the ghetto because the house was flanked by two major streets- one respectable and one that was home to an adult video store and a trailer park. I didn't care though, because it was our own and I wasn't living with family or anyone else. The house was small and easy to keep clean. The floors were all linoleum and the carpet was low pile and all I had was a small baby crawling around and a cute husband who was (and still is) eager to help at the drop of a sock or even a spaghetti-covered spoon. Some memories are so mundane it seems silly to think they have any contribution to an expectation or even something bigger- are a very vivid and bold block on the patchwork of your life. But I've got one- it's me sitting on our microfiber sofa in our upstair playroom-slash-bonus room-slash-family room and I'm there with this very content, beaming and slightly prideful realization that I have absolutely no responsibility at that very moment. Nothing at all to do. My house was clean without so much as a crumb to be swept. Laundry all folded (or in a confined pile, pushed all the way to the middle of my bed), baby was happy, scriptures were read, dinner was done, etc. etc. etc. Just absolutely everything completed. I had reached my standard for myself and usually in the process of picking up the remote, turning on The Office (or something too smutty for me now) and basking in my done-ness while wondering if I consciously acknowledge every passing second I could actually stop time and just stay.

I've been chasing that feeling ever since.

After Jonah was born it was sometimes attainable. It happened less, but on really good days I could finish absolutely everything. Cash was born next and it was rare, but it happened. Sometimes when Jax was at preschool and the younger two were home all day with me, they would magically fall asleep at the same time. Maybe it happened just once or twice. Now, never. It NEVER happens. I'm a very systematic person. My brain has a natural system- a natural and innate rhythm and timing in which I do things. According to that system, things have to get done in a certain order and not just in present tense- in past tense too. If the system wasn't applied to the past, I am in constant make-up mode. I have to backlog. Cancer backlogged me a lot. I am constantly behind, constantly doing make-up. That room would have been painted. That child would have had more quality time with me. I am making up for what chemo did to my skin. Making up for time lost with my kids. Making up for what would have been and trying to get to the place where it is.

I wrote a post called "Me at 23" and I don't want to read it because I'll either feel really jealous or really ashamed. Maybe just really bored. I can remember writing something about dessert which is probably still applicable but wouldn't quite make the Me at 29 list. I want to make changes at 29 and so I've been on a mission to identify what I want to change about myself and actually change it. Today I made leprechaun traps with the boys. We had a primary meeting at my house. After the last meeting, I went upstairs to find poop in like nine places in my room. Today Cash fell on our moulding (WHAT AND HOW) in our furniture-less room and cut his face open in two places. There are dishes in my sink and laundry on my bed and most recently discovered: laundry in the washer from two days ago. I have a dog. I HAVE A DOG. and Jax had soccer and Jonah had preschool and we still have no food even though I went to the store yesterday. I need to work out and read my scriptures and send McKay's mom's Christmas gift (YES, IT'S MARCH) and I have acne and need to water my plants and buy Jax a bedroom light and sew curtains and the list goes on. I was going to make veggie burgers and chocolate chip cookies tonight and I left to take Jax to soccer and said a very bad word under my breath just about my life. Because I'm tired. I am so so tired. But there is so much to make up for. So much to do.

I absolutely hate that feeling- of working so hard to build this road to get to this place while constantly behind you it's being jackhammered and dumped on and broken up. You just want to keep it clean and perfect and continue on but you can't because you are fixing while you are building and you have to keep going- it's your road! People you love are going to drive on it. And sometimes SURPRISE, it turns into an airport escalator and suddenly you're way ahead of the spot you were working on. You have to go back to that spot, but guess what, your family is up ahead already. It's an important road.

But today, I put my hammer down. I got off my excavator. I laid on my road instead.

I dropped Jax off at soccer. I drove home with the other two. I walked them inside, handed them a remote, and said, "It's quiet time, go upstairs and watch a movie." I sat on the couch. I decided to make frozen meatballs. I pulled out my scriptures. I talked to my friends. I left my house messy. I decided it was okay. Jonah fell asleep on my bed and McKay came home and said I looked happy. I don't feel guilty about the meatballs TV. I told myself I don't have to. Maybe a quality mom is better than a big huge quantity of a grumpy one. Maybe I can drop my kids off in the YMCA daycare for an hour tomorrow. Maybe I can do it every day. Maybe I really should fold my laundry. But maybe not.

Maybe my family can just take a freaking airplane.