No Balance

Outside, the air is full of mist. A few stubborn leaves float through the air, the ground is carpeted still with reds and golds and browns. The sun is just starting to burn through the silvery sky.

It's a beautiful morning.

And all I can think, as I look out my window, tea mug in hand, is,

"How many other tiny BRINGERS OF DEATH are lurking out there?"

Monday, the littles and I spent much of the day playing outside (I even brought their small table and chairs out so Joy could do school outside). We jumped in leaf piles, chased each other around, and altogether had a glorious time.

Then yesterday, as those of you who read my Twitter account know, I felt an odd bump on my back where I couldn't see very well, asked Carl to take a look at it, and the next thing I knew, he was grabbing for the tweezers and ordering me to hold still so he could get the tick out.

Thank God for my husband's steady hands.

As soon as it was out (intact, thankfully), I slid to my knees, and thence to the floor, passing out quite neatly with my forehead pressed to the linoleum. Haven't done that since I had a few issues with anemia as a teenager.

However, the point of this post is not, despite all appearances, to gross you out with my tick horror story (though you have to admit, it's a pretty good story). No, this is all just a prelude.

The result of passing out was a massive, unshakeable headache for the rest of the day, the kind that makes it impossible to get anything accomplished. I did manage to make cookies with the littles, as an apology for not taking them outside again (NO WAY were we setting foot in the death trap known as OUR BACKYARD). And in the evening, after the littles were in bed, I did get a few more rosebuds sewn on the blanket I'm making for Joy's new baby doll. And ... that's about it.

As a result, I'm behind in writing, in cooking, in cleaning, in laundry ... you name it, I'm behind. Missing one unplanned day due to a headache makes for more massive headaches trying to scramble to catch up for the rest of the week. Some weeks might not be a big deal, but Carl's mom and sister are coming out this weekend to celebrate birthdays (Joy's and Grandma's), which means at the very least, I need food in the house for them to eat, and to get the piles of clean laundry out of the guest room and clean sheets on the bed. Sweeping the floors and cleaning the toilet might be a nice touch, too.

Which means that, again, writing gets pushed to the back burner.

It's not that writing isn't important to me, or that Carl doesn't think it worth spending my time on. It's just that there are so many other things that have to get done. My family has to eat. We have to have clean clothes. The littles have to take top priority. Joy has to do school (well, ok, it was our choice to do homeschooling instead of public school, and my choice to do preschool with her, but those were both important decisions to us that have to be followed through with now).

I can't just ignore all of those in favor for writing, as much as I'd like to with some of them. And the other projects, the sewing and quilting stuff ... well, those aren't necessary, which is why they also often get pushed to the back burner, but they do help to satisfy my creative needs, and I get pretty cranky when those are left unsatisfied.

I'm not really asking for advice here - I know that most other people have the same problems trying to balance everything. I'm mostly just trying to keep it real here. A few people have mentioned how impressive they think it is that I manage to "do it all."

I don't. The plain truth? In order to do one thing, something else doesn't get done. Just the way it is. About the only two things I can do at the same time are make bread and wash laundry, because there's enough pauses between both to balance it out. Everything else? Every day I have to pick and choose which is most important. And, sadly, most days, writing is squeezed into the cracks or left out entirely. Not because it's not important, but because things like eating food are things we literally can't live without, therefore food has to be made.

And all this with a supportive husband who helps out around the house without even being asked (as I found this morning when I saw that he had emptied the dishwasher last night without me even asking - thanks, babe)! I can't imagine trying to do this without him.

I don't have anything catchy to end this with, any pithy sentence to sum it up or words of wisdom. Just a heartfelt hope that someday, maybe, things will get easier to balance.

And an even more heartfelt hope that we get snow soon and bury all those ticks six feet under.

(Hey, I found my pithy ending sentence after all!)