All in.

Lately, I feel like I'm too busy being a mom to have time for my kids.

The day started without me, this morning.

My son wasn't able to go to seminary, this morning, so I overslept.  I somehow unplugged my phone from across the room and brought it to my night table.  Somewhere in there, I turned off my alarm.  I don't remember any of this.

I was awakened by a panicked little 8 yr old who was to be ready for school and hadn't even had breakfast, yet.

We hurriedly got his lunch ready and some things gathered for a school project that was due, today, and he ended up leaving with an empty stomach.  I prayed hard for his tummy to feel full and he'd have the energy he needed to focus.  I felt like Mom of the Year.

I'm currently (supposed to be) working.  I work from home.  This is necessary for us to survive, financially.  We don't need much and we're working on paying off debt so we can survive without my income, should we have to.  But I like working.  I like using my brain for something other than the following, which happens to be my to-do list, today (in no particular order):

Get the boys' laundry done (and put away).

Make sure dinner is in the works and actually gets made.

Make sure my kids are up to par on their schoolwork.  

Make a meal plan.

Form a grocery list.

Get said groceries.

Take my son for a much needed haircut.  

Do my share of the chores I've divvied out.  

Make sure the kids do their share of the chores I've divvied out.

After school carpool.

Son's baseball game.

Fax an immunization record to my kids' new school.

Finish the get-in-shape chart I fashioned for one of my children.  

Get kids to bed on time.

Get myself to bed on time (harder than you would think).

And my husband's out of town, so I'm doing this a la Han Solo, but without the Han.

I look around and see my super messy room.  It's in the middle of several projects; cleaning the room being one of them.  I think of the mess on my desk and the mess in the kitchen and my son needing socks and my other son needing underwear and my other other son needing a hair cut and the opportunity I have to earn a little extra money on my birthday and the time it would take from my day and the fact that I haven't eaten breakfast, myself, and my brain just goes into overdrive.

Yesterday, I was hardly home.  My kids had to make dinner.  Someone else had to get my son to Cub Scouts.  My 5 yr old had the opportunity to go to daycare, but he opts not to on account of his friend not being there and I opt not to because it saves us money.  But that means he stays home and watches TV and whines about being hungry and not getting attention and...... 

I don't know what to cut out of my day.  I don't know what I can cut out of my day.  I try to tell myself to just focus on one thing at a time, but my brain's very "all or nothing".  I keep telling others that, which is probably why it complies.  I believe in that sort of thing.

I know I'm not the only one who has days like this or thoughts like this.  I'm not entirely sure why I posted this.  Maybe to get it out of my head and out into the cosmic void that is the internet.  I feel like, if I write things down, I don't have to think about them, anymore.

Yeah, right.  haha

Breakthrough

I've been doing a lot of soul-searching, lately.  I'm coming to realize that some things I thought were, might not actually be.  But, that's a story for a different blog.

Part of it, though, is thus:

I'm a hoarder.

Let me explain...

For the longest time, I thought it was because I was a flake, a failure, an idea-haver but not an idea-doer, a project-starter, but not a project-finisher.

Every time I see a Women's World magazine boasting of some miracle way to lose weight by drinking water or walking, I buy it.  I have a bunch of them.  I've never actually followed through with any of these seemingly amazing feats.  I do the crossword and sudoku, though.  I'll even read the articles.  I buy them with the intent of losing many, many pounds and maybe even being awarded a sum of money for their choosing of something I wrote to publish in their awesome magazine.  But I've never done it.

I have buckets and totes of fabric.  I've nabbed up-for-grabs material off of facebook.  I have quilting patterns and books and notions of all sorts.  I have the sewing machine, a sewing table with two long, folding leaves for making of great things.  I have thread and zippers and buttons and a cool peg board in which to organize my "tools".  I even have a list of items I can make and possibly sell.  But I've never done it.

I have yarn.  Lots and lots of yarn.  I've self-taught myself crochet and knitting.  I have patterns and books and needles and hooks (now I'm channeling my inner Dr. Seuss).  I've bookmarked things on the internet.  I even have a sweet chair in my very own sewing/craft/office room, for those moments when others are occupied and I have time to myself.  I've added to my list things I could make and possibly sell.  But I've never done it.

I have yoga paraphernalia.  Yoga mat, bricks, belt, DVDs, books, a yoga bible, even... I have it all.  I found several programs through a friend and online where I can learn to be a yoga instructor.  But I've never done it.

I have so many workout DVDs.  Yoga, pilates, cardio, hula, dance, Beachbody of all sorts, kickboxing.  I buy them thinking, this is it - this will make the weight problem go away.  But I never stick with them.

I have receipts and various filled pages in notebooks and random pieces of paper with my book ideas.  But I've never written them.

I bought a guitar.  I bought a piano.  I even have sheet music from my favorite artist.  But I've never learned.

I used to have a book for learning sign language.  I have water colors and a full book of water color paper.  I have a blank canvas.  I have a very expensive camera I haven't used in years.  I have a calligraphy book and pens.  I have shelves of books I've never read.

All of these things.  I collect them.  I never do anything with them, but I keep them, just in case.  Someday I'll do something with them, right? I keep adding to them, too, like what I have isn't enough.

It didn't occur to me until recently.  I hoard them.

I'm a hoarder.

I hoard good intentions.