What a sloppy week. That's the single best way to describe the week that ended--for me--at 11:59:59 EDST last night.
The adult me mastered the art of compartmentalizing my life. I had to--for ten years I ran my own writing business from home while I shepherded both boys from diapers to early intervention to preschool to elementary school. Running a tight ship--essential. And I carried these lessons with me when I re-entered corporate last year.
But, as I discovered, life cannot always be so neatly contained.
Work, boys, home, hubby--all these things sloshed into one big pot and became stew, cooked on the coals of my own chagrin.
Fortunately, I am surrounded by people who get it, who laugh at me and my chagrin, and encourage me to laugh, too. And I laugh because I can't help it. When things hum along smoothly, I think it's my doing--until I am reminded when everything rides off the rails that I control very, very little.
I cannot always contain the chaos, but I can laugh while I mop up after it. And why not? Real life is messy. But if you want to survive, you damn well better know how to laugh at it.
Just random scenes from the past week: the brothers C showing up to hang out with Nic (one left after 10 minutes, the other stayed to watch a movie with Nic); dragging the boys out to run the mile (Nic complained from start to finish and at least G got his proprioceptive input on the swings at the end); meetings that ran over, spilled over, fires to put out, egos to soothe, feathers to smooth, and the piece de resistance, my running all over the infield at the subnovice meet screaming for an audience of several hundred, "Run G--THIS WAY!" By the way, he finished his first 400 and received his first running ribbon, even though he started with the first heat and finished well behind the last.
But he finished.
So I begin my week off with a pile of work that still needs to get done, the kids will be home, and with any amount of luck we will get some adventures in. We all need to get off the treadmill for a bit--if I can get a couple days of that action, I'll be happy.
But as ever, I will do the needful. Because that's what I do.
My bucket, mop, and sense of humor are standing by.