The Gift of Time
If there is anything that the last few years have taught me, it is that there are never enough hours in the day. I spend so much time wishing that I had just one more hour to cram full of something before bed. I wish that I could make myself sacrifice an hour of sleep so that I could get up early and do some yoga. I wish that I had time to read a book, to watch another episode of my favorite show, to spend with my girls before it’s their bedtime, to cross anything off my to-do list.
There simply isn’t enough of it.
Lately, I catch myself thinking that none of this is infinite. There will undoubtedly be books left untouched on my shelf when I pass on. Things saved to my Pinterest boards that I never got around to. Recipes in cookbooks left untried. Countless reminders in my planner that I put off for one too many days. I’m trying desperately to make all of it count, but in the process, I’m spinning in circles. The juggler is dropping the balls because there are just too many of them. I find myself saying, If I can get through this week, I’ll finally be caught up. But there is always something new to worry about, something unexpected that pops up that needs to be taken care of, something that needs my attention urgently. Does it ever get easier?
No, Carrie, it doesn’t.
Tomorrow is the twins’ last day of second grade. I blinked, and it was over. This has not been our best year. It was tumultuous and exhausting. I began the year with my usual zest. I signed up for every PTO committee, volunteered for every event, offered to bring food to every luncheon. But a little over halfway through, I just could not do it anymore. There was that juggling act again. I just stopped all of it, and I admittedly felt guilty about it. My self-preservation was calling, and my sanity was suffering, and I realized that I had nothing left to give of myself. There are others who can pick up those tasks; it will all still get done and I won’t likely even be missed. It is not my responsibility to save the world.
In other news, the Captain and his wife have split up (not that his comes as a surprise to any of us). He has pretty much disappeared from the earth since their separation in November. The girls hear from him occasionally. They haven’t seen him since October. He missed his Christmas visitation as well as Spring Break. He was supposed to have dates for his summer visitation to me by March 1st, but I’m still waiting. I expected that the girls would be sad, but neither of them have batted an eyelash. He was a little blip on their radar, and it seems to have run its course. Livvy has been sick off and on for the past couple of months, and he could not be bothered to even check in on her unless it was to ask why I was sending a receipt for a doctor’s office copay or prescription to him. Life is so much simpler when we are an afterthought to him. I don’t need the conflict.
I have more to write about, more worries that are clattering around in this troubled mind of mine, but they will need to wait for another day. Some things are just too hard to put into words and send out into the universe. Maybe things will seem more clear tomorrow.
