I'm turning 32 in less than a week. I can't lie...I sort of hate birthdays now. It's just a reminder that I haven't accomplished many of the things I really really want to accomplish with my time. Obviously I'm thrilled with the fact that I have a beautiful set of daughters and a happy life and a job and no real true worries. But when I'm being selfish about the things I want to say I've done with my life, I want a few things on that list to show true accomplishments that reflect something I'm capable of with my own abilities. The jewelry is fun and I'm proud of it but it's not cutting it. I want to make time to finish editing one of the projects I've written and I want to be able to focus on getting one of them sold. But there's never any time.
Everything is taking all of my time. Two kids (love them dearly, yes, of course), work (takes way way way too much of it), jewelry, exercise (when I spare time for it)...by the time I have done everything I'm obligated to do either with work, family, jewelry, cleaning, etc. I have about an hour of free and open time to do with what I choose. And unlike that awesome month back in November, I'm letting that hour go toward TV or mindlessly looking online. And then, before I know it, it's time to go to bed.
I guess I could start staying up late again but I really need the sleep now that everyone in my house keeps getting sick and work is requiring more of my attention. Seriously...just one hour...if that...per day. That's it. And so now I look at people without children, or the version of me before children, and I think...damn, must be nice. Again...I'm not complaining about children at all, obviously...but maybe Abby could cry a little less when I walk out of the room to pee. And maybe Jane could not spend an hour every night repeatedly being told to go to bed. Then maybe the time I spend with them would be a little less stressful and the time I end up with at the end of the day would be a little more productive.
Wishful thinking.
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