Sweetness and Light

Life is not all sweetness and light. It is often bitter and heavy. This has been a long and rough holiday season, lived through a veil of sadness and confusion. I still can't wrap my head around why Mandi and her sweet baby died and how on earth her family can live on without them. Life is not all sweetness and light. It is laundry, and dirt. It is days, weeks, months of too much to do for other people and not enough time to do it. It is soul crushing, chest constricting stress. It is clogged toilets and rotting vegetables in the refrigerator. It is mess and clutter. It is too many toys and nowhere to put them. It's making meals and cleaning up meals and running the dishwasher and emptying the dishwasher, and "Oh, look at that it's time to make another meal." It is hiding in the bathroom, trying to read silently for just one minute please, and not even that works out. It is going to bed too late because you had to work and getting up too early to work out and then being too tired to run three miles.

Life is hardly ever sweetness and light.

I started reading a book yesterday called Desire to Inspire, and it features different women who manage to incorporate creativity into their lives and how they do it, what they struggle with, how they balance their lives. The very beginning of the book mentions the attempt to be a Force of Good in the world. To leave a positive trace behind. To uplift others. I love that idea. I love the idea of using my life, my every day life of work and chores and errands and duties to uplift. I spend so much time trying to figure out how to get more time that I'm probably losing out on this chance to uplift others, and likely myself. The book reminded me that I have opportunities every day, in my home and neighborhood to uplift and leave a positive trace. I can be a Force of Good. Maybe when I get some sleep and have a little peace and quiet.

We've been watching a lot of Star Wars, specifically, the Empire Strikes Back. Growing up I never really noticed the slam-you-in-the-head dichotomy of Good vs. Evil in that movie, right down the Darth Vader wearing black (or as Clara says, Dark Thader). But, it reminds me how every person has a force within them. I can be a Force of Good. I can. Really. I can.

However.

Life is not all sweetness and light.

And, honestly, I'm just plain tired. I'm tired of the mess and the clutter and the constant bickering and whining and nagging and begging and crying.

It is very important to know yourself, to understand your limitations and your abilities.

I am not, nor have I ever been, sweetness and light. I'm more crankiness and snark. Ever since, well, ever, I've required a lot amount of time to myself. I need to think. To process. To recharge my mind and body for human interaction. I need the silence. Or the loud music. I just need to be alone.

When I was growing up we had a big side yard that my Dad would mow every weekend. While mowing, he would wear these really big, I think they were blue, earphones that covered his entire ear. He probably listened to WLW or the Reds or something. Wearing those earphones, combined with the sound of the mower made him impossible to talk to, communicate with, or, really, to bother at all. Those fifteen minutes every saturday were probably the best 15 minutes of his week. Nobody, and I mean, nobody could get to him.

I could use a pair of blue earphones right about now.

Or, how about a set of barstools to block the kitchen door? My mom used to mop the floor in the kitchen, and when she did you couldn't go in until it was dry. She would block the door with barstools. Maybe she sat on the counter reading a magazine in the peace and quiet of her freshly cleaned kitchen. I hope so. I know I would.

I have no earphones and I have no barstools. All I have is a Gym with a playroom with a limit of 90 minutes. Right now, it's not enough, because in order to get there I have to survive so much whining and noise and fighting and just plain drama that it renders the time there useless. I try to go alone, but then I have to rush home to relieve Rick. So, I resort to sobbing in the bathroom begging to be left alone, or as I am right now, sequestered in the basement, telling them, "Just give me 30 minutes by myself, PLEASE."

My tank is below empty at this moment. I can hardly spell my first name, let alone be a Force of Good. At this point, I'm struggling to hold it all together and do the least amount of damage to my children before they, Praise the Lord in heaven above, go back to school on Monday.

Until then, I'll be hiding in the basement pretending to do the laundry.