Super

Super
And for once I was SuperMom

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Time Crunch

Because I'm a mom lots of stuff about moms shows up in my newsfeed on Facebook.
A video has been shared a lot by several of my friends, because most of my of my friends are moms.
It's about applying for the toughest job in the world.
Without even having to click on the damn thing I knew it would be a mom.
I watched it, and near the end I started crying.  I hated myself a bit for crying.  Aren't I immune to crap like this. I knew I wasn't crying because it was a tribute to moms.  People talk about how being a mom is hard all the time.  I cried because it's true.  I cried because of the time.
Lately I've started trying to think of myself as my children's nanny.  Is that sad?  It is what it is.  Because when I am home all the projects that I want to do buzz around in my head.  All the piles of unfinished beckon in the peripheral.  I just want them to watch a video so I can do something else.  If I was their nanny I wouldn't do anything else.  I would just take care of them.
That's all I would do.
We have some friends that are launching their own company.  They are both artists.  Circumstance has forced them to pursue a dream that few will ever try, to try to make a living off of their own art.
Do you remember the phrase 'starving artist?'
But, they're doing it.  They are supporting themselves and their two children on their art.  I am almost drunk with jealousy.
I keep thinking that I just need to work harder, do more, sleep less, and I will make more art and I can do what they are doing.
Here's the rub.  The husband does most of the work.  The wife is usually taking care of their kids.  This means that the husband pulls regular all nighters so as not to be disturbed by the kids.  She spends her time caring for their children.
I'm her.  Scott is working.  I'm caring for the children.
That's what left for me.  The corners of my day.  There is my creative time.  The end.  Once the children are in bed.  Once the house is 'clean.'  Once my husband is sitting on the couch asking if I want to read or watch something.
And, oh yes, all I want to do is sit down.  Put a pillow behind the small of my back, lean against him, and just be.
There is the other choice.  Do I spend time with my husband or do I spend time with my canvases?
If only there was room for a recliner in my studio.
The time.  The lack of time.  A job that other's describe as inhumane is currently mine.
I hope that this does not come across as a whine.  It's not meant to be.
I suppose it is what it is.  I feel selfish if I give myself the gift of time.  I feel resentful if everyone else asks for it.
Here's a photo of Emma climbing on my back while I tried to write emails:


Trying to get this 'selfie' was pretty entertaining.  She kept asking me what I was doing and making faces at the iPad.  Never mind that taking a picture of yourself with an iPad is super awkward.

(Referencing an 'iPad' while complaining about my problems always make me feel super first world....)


2 comments:

Rachel Orie said...

I have so much appreciation for how transparent you are! I really believe that God honors the desires of our hearts, and will give you moments to unfurl your creative tendrils and let the juices flow...but he will also give you opportunities to revel in the precious joy that is your beautiful family. They are so blessed to have you!

Rachel Orie said...

I am so appreciative of your transparency! I truly believe that God honors the deep desires of our hearts, especially when we are faithful to his call on our lives, and he will grant you moments to unfurl your creativity, to stretch wide your artistic muscles, and to let the juices flow. He will also, however, bless you with moments of unmistakable joy in the daily moments of nurturing your precious family. They are so blessed to have you!