Sorry....

Sorry for the long hiatus.  After the chaos of my surgery and then the move I have added more tasks to my plate and haven't had a chance to get back to this blog.  It's a nice respite for me though.  A bit of a journal, a bit of a soap box, a bit of a way to keep in touch with everyone.  It's very exhibitionist of me and very self-centered I admit.  I want the whole world to know about the things I experience and the things I go through.  It's not very well written either. 

The past few days though have made me realize how much I need to come back to this.  I've been stressed out, worn out, strung out and ready to be hung out to dry.  Part of it is how busy we have been lately.  My social calendar reminds me too much of the Berenstain Bears book "Too Much Pressure".

I am almost always on the go; during the week, on the weekends, it doesn't matter.  It's gotten to the point where I have to schedule days at home.  Part of this is my fault. I am a social creature and so is Kara.  We both want to know what we're doing that day and who we're seeing.  If Kara gets told that we aren't going anywhere or doing anything she gets disappointed.  We still often have a good day at home, which is something I have to remember.  On weekends I figure I have Adam here to help me with the girls so larger outings are easier.  And we want to do things fun as a family.  But it means the house gets neglected and the "honey do" list gets put off for the week. 


We've had a fair number of house guests, more than we often do in such a short span of time.  My sister and her family came to visit.  We hadn't seen them in 3 years.  I missed them so much and was ecstatic that they came out!  It was a long haul for them coming from California.  We had a blast!  But it was also tiring to be on the go a lot and to be trying to wrangle Kara and her cousin (they are 2 months apart).  Now we have my in-laws visiting.  I like it when they come because my house is cleaner than ever, my laundry gets done, the girls are entertained and I can escape now and then.  But company, no matter how wonderful and no matter how helpful, is still company and can still get stressful.


Rowan turns one this month.  So I am also busy planning and organizing her birthday party.  I am working out the small details like what food to get and how much.  Who is going to help me prepare the food I'm making, stuff the goody bags, entertain the girls so I can work?  Who will help us stake our claim to the shelter (which I recently found out we can't reserve but is on a first come first serve basis)?

On top of all of that I have had to get my things together for a local consignment sale, price what didn't sell and what I couldn't sell there for a friend's garage sale, make sure Adam is doing ok after his procedure, do Promotions work for the mom's group I'm part of, and help the national mom's group with some projects.  I don't regret all of that.  I don't resent it either.  It's just a lot of stuff piled up on top of other things.

But there's something else looming on the horizon that makes me depressed this month.  It hit me today while I stood cooking.  I was wondering what my mom would have thought of my cooking skills.  She was a fantastic cook, my friends eagerly accepted invitations to eat with us.  One friend once told me that if I ever got to be as good of a cook as my mom I had to invite him over, even if we weren't on speaking terms.  I had gotten a new blender and was wondering what she would have thought of it.  I imagined her smile as she would whip up tons of new concoctions in a short amount of time.  That's when I realized what's been bugging me.  July fills me with dread, it always will in some ways I suspect (sorry Rowan).  But July leads into August 1st.  And every year I will always relive August 1, 1999.  Mom died that day, I was there.  I sat on the hood of a car while the EMT's worked on her inside the house with my dad nearby.  Adam comforted me as I awaited the news.   My mom had been an alcoholic, she had been in and out of my life for years.  But I was really close to her and we had healed some of the past issues.  I don't miss the drunk mom.  I miss the mom that never taught me how to peel and seed a tomato.  I miss the mom that never told me how she got through all those sleepless nights with babies.  I miss the mom that never saw me get married, set up my own kitchen, or even have the lead in a college play.  I miss the big things and the little things like phone calls every day (I used to call her almost every.single.day from college). 

So yeah.  Today's a day I'm just popping back in to say I'll try to be here more.  Because I sometimes like to think all these writings are making their way to Mom.  And maybe, just maybe, by writing all of this I can help some other person.