Part of the problem I wrote about in my last post has to do not just with my reaction to things, but also the legitimate problem of managing two young children. Kind of Crunchy Mama touched on this in her comments to that post.
I do feel like my family doesn't recognize what actually needs to get done for special events to happen smoothly. They don't understand that I can't just pick up at the spur of the moment and go have some fun. That I have an infant in diapers who not only needs bottles, but baby food and related paraphernalia. That I have a preschooler who is just recently potty trained and needs extra attention to the possibility of accidents. That these things require me to carry quite a bit of stuff along when I go somewhere.
I don't think Paul, for instance, understands what kind of planning and preparation actually go into my ability to change Owen's poopy pants in the middle of a busy downtown street a half mile from the car and no restrooms in sight while waiting for Independence Day fireworks to begin.
Before I had children, I was blissfully ignorant of all of this, too. I remember at my cousin Stacy's baby shower (before kids for me), her older sister Karyn gave us both the advice that we should fit kids into our lifestyles rather than fit our lifestyles to our kids. I nodded sagely, sure of the wisdom of her advice. After all, at the time I thought it ridiculous if my friends with children wouldn't do something because it interfered with nap time or was too inconvenient for the kids. I swore I wouldn't be like that. When I had kids, I would be flexible, relaxed, I would have them adjust to my life.
You're smiling. I know. I was delusional, wasn't I?
Two kids later I do try to be flexible. I won't bar the door and turn off the telephone and block all outside light during nap time, for example. My kids have learned to nap in a house that is impossible to keep dark and silent (I have a dog, I have neighbors, I don't even have curtains on many of my windows).
But as a mother I also have to be aware at all times of the needs of my children. I am painfully aware of what happens when they don't get enough sleep, when they get overstimulated, when their routine gets thrown for more than a day. Children need for parents to be flexible, but they also need structure. It just works better that way for all of us.
And providing that structure is actually work. It doesn't just happen. It requires planning and organization and even physical work. Special events or special trips require even more work.
So what happens is this: I am running around doing the work of getting stuff together to get the entire family out of the house with everything we need to meet any contingency, and Owen starts wanting me to get something for her or starts crying because the dinosaur won't move its feet right or whatever and Barrett gets herself stuck between the TV stand and the chair and Paul is following me around asking me what he should do or what I need for him to do or what can he do. And I just want to yell "Open your eyes, Man, and look at what needs doing!" I find myself angry that he can't see what I see or hear what I hear or know what I know about the tasks that need doing.
To be fair: I really can't expect him to know what I'm thinking and he does ask me how he can help. He does sincerely want to help. And I have taught him that I will take care of things. I have always packed all of us for trips, for instance, so that he really doesn't even know what kinds of things I pack and where I keep those things. I usually just take care of it.
I don't want to paint Paul as an ogre here. He is a very supportive husband. He does not just leave me to take care of the kids. He is involved, he is caring, he makes bottles and changes diapers and gets up in the night, he does plenty of household chores. And he works a full-time job where I only work a part-time job (outside of home). And now he's going to school. With homework.
The problem is me. The problem is one of balance. I have trouble finding balance.
Right now, for example, I am trying to get these words down before they fly out of my head and I can no longer say what I want to express coherently. But Owen has just carried a large pile of books into the living room for me to read with her. Paul is at work (rare on a Saturday). Barrett is fussy. And we're going to try to make it to the fair late this afternoon. We might even stay the night in Asheville with Paul's parents and go to church in the morning. So I have a bit of preparation to do. It'll probably take me most of the morning.
And blogging about it isn't getting it done, so I must go.
Tell me, though, how do you find balance?
