Wednesday, October 24, 2007

daily itinerary needed here

So I am starting to like the fact that I am older and wiser and that I know who I am nowadays. Sucky part is that I so know who I am.

When I left my job I thought that each day at home would come scripted with an outlook calendar. I mean, I thought the day would unfold much like my professional one- I would tackle projects and assignments and kids and tick each one off in an orderly fashion and reward my self with lattes...like always. I would have a schedule and semblance of order. Nope. Not even close.

I am a bit freaked out at how a day can float out of my life and I am still in sweatpants. How is this possible. I get a bit anxious when I think about my lack of order. I mean, I am living in chaos...this is one problem..but, the bigger picture is that I just don't know how to do it all and not lose the time for myself. I have to write and create and play with these beautiful boys. I must work on my freelance work and clean the house and cook meals and entertain the sexy husband. I try and comb my hair and paint my toenails and shave my legs. I want to wear lipstick.

How is one supposed to balance this all? I am also taking Finn out of the two day preschool as of this week to save some money until 2008...So there is more stress. I have to compete with his old teacher who was a sage and wore a fedora? I mean, what are some possible daily schedule for me? I really need some advice...Currently I stay up late and sleep until the baby wakes and then get up....Should I be getting up early? Should I apply lipstick before bed?
Aidez Moi?

4 comments:

Avery Gray said...

Oh, THE question for moms. How do I get it all done? I haven't figured it out yet, but if you do, let me know the answer! Help a fellow mom out here!!

katekatenegotiate said...

release the need to be supermom. just be.

SharonEKim said...

I miss you too! People will be over tonight so if you can stop over.

SusieJ said...

I'm searching for an answer here --- not finding it. I have absolutely no idea. As I sweep my kitchen floor, which desperately needs it, I wonder how many pages of a novel will be unwritten because I'm sweeping this floor -- and no one is going to stop it.

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