"Maybe there's more we all could have done, but we just have to let the guilt remind us to do better next time." -Veronica Roth, Divergent
They have fun, right? |
Before I left on this most recent business trip, my youngest
said to me (jokingly, I hope), “If you leave baked goods for us, we’ll remember
that you love us.”
I left for California early on Sunday morning, a time when
many families are having breakfast and preparing for worship together. My broken-homed kids were at their dad’s
house. The day before, I had spent in a
whirlwind. I cleaned my house, dropped
bake sale items off at the high school, ran errands, took my visiting mother to
breakfast, attempted to assemble a bookcase, baked two loves of pumpkin bread
and Halloween cupcakes (complete with spider and gruesome hand toppers because
deep down, I kind of believed what Thing 2 said about the baked goods) and
volunteered at the band competition until 9:30 pm. When I came home, I cleaned a little more,
stuffed money into an envelope for my pet-sitter, started packing my bags and
crossed a couple of last-minute work items off my list. When I finally fell into bed, exhausted, at
midnight, I set my alarm for 4 a.m. so I could get up and finish my packing
before my early flight.
I then set off across the country, worked in the airport and
on the flight (on a Sunday, no less) and tried to remember what I had forgotten
to leave for the window contractors who were coming to my house in my
absence. I raced from the airport
directly to a trade show. Then back to
my hotel room to finish a presentation my boss needed for Monday morning. I fell
asleep sitting up in my hotel room with my laptop open after what amounted to a
16-hour workday.
I forgot to put money in my kids’ lunch account so I got an
abbreviated text from my eldest. “Put
money on my lunch account.” OK. Done.
I tried to ignore the guilt for missing picking him up from band
practice and my youngest son’s double and stolen home base at the baseball
game. Mondays are MY days, after
all. I should have been there.
It seems as if my life is often a series of “I should have” or “I have to” or “I’m going
to” or “I need to” phrases. I spend much
of my time feeling guilty for not working enough, not paying enough attention
to my kids, not cleaning my house well enough, not weeding my garden, not
cleaning my car, not taking my dogs on walks, not making the decision to put my
poor elderly cat to sleep…the list goes on and on and on.
So I bake. I
clean. I shuffle. I run.
I cajole. I volunteer when I can.
I work hard to keep the guilt at bay.
And I do a little bit here and a little bit there but I never do
anything really well. I often think that we women REALLY SHOWED THEM when we
started working outside the home. We
managed to get the full time jobs outside the house while maintaining a full
load in the house. We juggle marriage
(well, not me so much anymore), kids, jobs, household duties and
extracurricular activities while lamenting (bragging?) to each other about how
busy we are.
I am overloaded with the stress. I don’t even do half of what many of my
friends do. And still I am burdened by all
the guilt above compounded by the fact that I am not giving my kids what they
really need: me. Because what they need, when it comes down to
it, isn’t baked goods. What they need, more
than anything, is their parents.
Meanwhile, I’m 30,00 feet over Memphis. For now, the cupcakes will have to do the
trick. I am on my way, boys. I am on my way.
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