gettin' it

Wife, mother,daughter, friend, proprietor, just a few of the hats I wear daily. Being all things to all people on a daily basis is not an easy job to uphold. Regardless of the fact that I love my family and my job more than pizza, there are still days where I throw my hands up in the air and want to run away to Florida. Each of these personas requires an enormous amount of patience(something I am lacking)and emotional/mental energy as well as physical stamina in order to chase my four year old or haul heavy pieces of old furniture. One particular field trip to the botanical gardens had me like a WWF wrestler in order to remove my son from his friends and get to the car. Oh big sigh thinking about that. The unfortunate incident rode on the crest of an extremely long month of worrying about my husband's job search, moving large loads of furniture to hoard for the fast approaching flea market and troublesome bedtimes trying to get the boss in the bathtub. This was also the month where I had to make my grocery money stretch like a rubber band so I could continue to buy those loads of old junk. Thank God for cheap tacos and bananas! I'll tell ya, as stated, I love my job, but some days I am so freakin' tired I cannot even move the remote control. My job though rewarding can be positively back breaking and exhausting. Imagine all the times you've moved than make that a weekly thing and you'll get what I'm talking about. There are days where work is just work yet there is still no better high than foraging and finding treasures and to be your own boss is positively priceless. I will continue to shop at Aldis and bake bread from scratch if it gets me through the slow times so I can continue to do what I love to do. Now being a mother, that's hard. It makes lifting all that old stuff look easy. I have to say being a mother is the hardest job I ever worked. Like just now as I am trying to spread my words of wisdom, somebody was having a whiny meltdown because his Lego firetruck came apart. You see these are not my worries at 42, but at age 4 it is positively the end of the world. He also needed yogurt, waffle, juice, cereal, and to be held, all within the past hour. Now mind you, to hold him is what I live for. Nothing feels better than his hands on my face and to feel his warm body, but the endless up and down off my stool gets a bit aggravating as I try to find the patience I don't have to feed him with a smile his fourth meal of the hour. I have also just spent the better part of the day grocery shopping and moving more furniture so this stool is the only place I want to plant my derriere at the moment. I have come to realize sitting down is a luxury. For the next 3 weeks until I schlepp my old finds to the flea, there will be no sitting down. There will be more endless errands, painting, projects, crafting, and hauling. This will be the time when I may snap. I will not be able to listen to friend's tales of boyfriend woes or work woes or even have a conversation with family members without wanting to shoot myself, but through all I will try to maintain a smile, mind my temper and pray for a large cocktail at the end of the day. Through all of the mothering, working, friending, etc. there is one constant in my life that I simply cannot be without. My husband is my rock. My tether to sanity. This man who has put up with all my moods, attitudes, dreams and schemes and continues to look at me with that beautiful smile on his face. God bless him or help him if you may. Without this man I would be sunk like the Titanic. His unwavering optimism and support makes all these hats a little easier to don and allows me to just keep gettin' it. Good afternoon world.