Holding On and Letting Go

It seems I am becoming too busy to blog. I haven't posted in a week! All I have to say about that is that I have been busy. I think I will be busy the rest of my life. But I'm not hanging this up. I am going to be wise enough to know when I have to let one ball fall to keep the rest in the air. I guess, this past week, the blog was the ball that had to fall.

But even I am impressed that this is my 100th post. Somehow, in the past nearly ten months, I have found the brain power, the passion and the time to blog 100 times. Given my crazy life and the fact that four little creatures call me mom, I'm amazed. So, let's pick it up here and keep moving!

My mind is full of so many things. I have been thinking lately during my long commutes that I simply need to schedule a "brain dump." While it's not the prettiest phrase, it's fitting. I need to take this poor brain and dump out some of the details. I have to let go of the Wal-Mart lists, the memory-keeping, the sympathy cards I haven't yet sent, the doctor's appointments, the winter-summer clothing exchange.

In the past couple of weeks, I have begun to get longer chunks of sleep that allow me to dream again, or at least to remember the dreams. They are crazy concoctions of my subconscious. I dream about work, about the water that needs to be added to the Keurig before it will brew my next cup of coffee, about the diapers Luke needs at the sitter's house. It's bizarre.

In addition to the details I'm holding on to, I'm also holding on to extra weight. The pregnancy pounds aren't melting off as fast as they have after my other babies. Part of this is that I'm getting older, while part of it is that my body and mind are under such stress that my body is just refusing to give up the weight. I'm getting too much of the stress hormone and not enough water. Too much of the sitting on the couch nursing/sitting in the office working/sitting in the car driving and not enough sleep.

So life isn't going to change too much. An editor or agent isn't going to see my blog and hand me the world on a silver platter. Nobody else is going to take care of me but me.

And so, I'm going to schedule that brain dump, try to sleep more, stress less, eat my veggies and drink my water. I'm going to be less hard on myself.

I'm going to nuzzle the soft, sweet-smelling heads of my children and the familiar, now SMOKE-FREE (hooray!!) neck of my husband. When a ball has to drop, I'm going to watch it roll away with a smile. When we finally get that first camping weekend at the lake, I'm going to take in the sunshine, the fresh air and the joy. I'm going to feed off those positives and carry them with me into the rainy days, the days where the supermom gig seems harder than ever.

And, right now, I'm going to sign off. I'm going to eat a bowl of cereal, watch this awesome season finale of "Parenthood," do the bare minimum to get ready for work, school and sitter tomorrow, and spend some time with my handsome husband, with whom my amazing supermom gig wouldn't have been possible. =)

Life is crazy good, and nothing is guaranteed. So let's keep moving!

Tightening My Cape

Well, it's that time again. In the midst of all these happy holidays is a week I really don't love: Deer Season. This is a snap of my husband's hunting group. I believe they call themselves the Young Buck Buckmasters. Several of you readers are in the same boat I am: that is, you've got the kids all to yourself this week as your husband exercises what he apparently believes is his God-given right to hunt, drink, carry on like a fool and be a man.

I'm feeling pretty positive about it right now. I've been through a lot of years of this, and a lot of children as well. It doesn't matter if I'm pregnant or nursing or sick, my man still believes the great white hunter in him trumps the family. And I rise to the occasion. I think maybe it's time he started to feel a bit vulnerable by how well I manage without him, eh?

But I'm really strong, and, even at seven months pregnant and facing long days of work and doctor's appointments, I'm up to a challenge. I'll do it, and I'll do it well.

I have been proud to say several times in the past couple of years that I think Shrek is finally growing up. And, even though he's gone again to chase that elusive 20-point dream buck, I'm going to say it again: I think Shrek is finally growing up... a little.

He worked hard to make things right this weekend before he ditched us. He spent the whole day with us yesterday, put up Christmas lights, did multiple sinkfuls of dishes and loads of laundry. He was even up two hours later than me last night folding a mountain of clean clothes and still woke up cheerfully this morning to accompany me to church with our brood.

So, hey, let's all give him the benefit of the doubt this year. Maybe we'll see him more than normal. Maybe he'll answer his cell phone when I need him. And maybe, just maybe, he'll grant my wish of Scrap Week or Shop Week or whatever the hell we "deer camp women" come up with to do for a week while our loving husbands work their normal jobs, coordinate child care, quiz the kids' with spelling words and vocabulary, taxi them around to various events and commitments, do the laundry, keep the dishes under control, wipe the noses, change the diapers, give the baths, cook, and generally love their children as we do.

HA!!!! I can hear you deer camp women laughing. Made ya smile, didn't I? It's hard to imagine, but who knows? It could happen.

Alas, I am tightening my cape, I am strengthening my nerves and my resolve. I may not do this cheerfully, but--oh yes--I will do it.

I know I've been a bit quiet the last five days or so and that many of my blogger friends were quiet as well, and I think it's a good thing. We can't let technology take over the way we live. We have to make those memories and be a part of the stories to be bloggers.

I had a great Thanksgiving and a wonderful weekend. My hope is that you did as well.

So now... now I hunker down and wait for those last few Christmas gifts to arrive. I enjoy the sparkle of my holiday decorations, the lighting up of my children's eyes as we drive around town to take in the holiday light displays. I breathe deeply the scent of my cinnamon clove candle, savor the last couple months of being the mother of just three children.

I work, I drive, I wash, I wipe. And I give thanks for all of these things. The things that make up the fabric of my blessed life.

Oh, and dear Lord, keep those fools safe....