Balancing Momism

If there is a reason I seem scattered when you talk to me, it's probably because there is one. Actually, five:

1. Clay 

2. Tyler 

3. Liam 

4. Gracie 

5. Memorial Health System 

You will eventually see photos and get a glimpse into the first four if you decide to follow this blog--like watching someone wreck on their bike and you just can't look away. (Trust me. My husband owns a bike shop. I've witness a few spectacular crashes.) 

The last is my job, to which I've obligated 40 hours of my life every week. I won't bore you with the details; just trust me that working within any healthcare system that actually cares about patients is like having a very large orangutan with ADHD shackled to your wrist in an angry law office. You turn a few heads, for better or worse. 

There is a constant balancing act, and I'm never dead-center perfect. NEVER. Lately I even feel like there might even be a teeter-totter under me, or one of those labyrinth games where you have to get the ball in the hole and keep slinging it back and forth on either side but never in. 

It is, admittedly, frustrating. I cram a weeks worth of laundry into a day and a half every weekend. I try to cram a day's worth of meaningful conversation with my family into the few minutes between dinner, homework, piano and bedtime. 

Don't get me wrong--I wouldn't trade it. Not right now, anyway. (And I don't want to imply that moms who don't have a job outside the home don't work: people who say that just want an uninformed and lame excuse to be jealous.) Some of the funniest things my kids have said are in those moments between. And I know that someday, when they're grown, I will want this back. I've also learned to laugh at myself more, when the lines between my home and job cross at odd moments.

For example, I recently answered one child who told me the computer wasn't working, "Do you want me to come look work next Wednesday for you?" I was typing an email about a meeting as I was talking. And I have been known to ask my co-workers if they needed to go potty. I've shown up to work with my scrubs inside out. I've gone out in public with silly-putty stuck to my butt. And at an early morning meeting last week when one of the doctors said 'good morning how are you', I think I answered, "Coffee." 

At my annual evaluation last week, my boss told me that I was one of the people she observes and tries to learn from in terms of being thoughtful when she speaks. I think she thinks I'm really that sensitive to other peoples' needs. I didn't have the nerve to tell her that I'm really just trying to not make a fool out of myself. 

So, I'll raise this 2pm cuppa joe to all my kindred balancing moms out there. Send me your best balancing momisms, and we'll revel in the camaraderie.