No, not this kind of jam…
I’m talking about this kind of jam.
Today’s post was supposed to be a celebration of my 100th blog post, but I’m not in much of a partying mood. I left work at 4:30 today and drove into dead stop traffic.
This is me at 5pm…
…and me at almost 7 pm.
Yes, it took me hours to get home. See…the lady next to me was reading a book.
In times like this, I usually try really, really hard to just relax and feel lucky that I am not the one actually in the accident. I try to think about those people, and how much they would probably like to switch places and just be stuck for a little while. I try to think about how happy I am that my son is at home, safe and happy.
But today was different. I was up 4 times with my little man last night due to teeth #9 and 10 (I think) trying to make their appearance, and I was up for the day at 4 am. When I left work at 4:30pm, all I wanted was that little boy in my arms.
So I found myself sitting there, thinking about all the things I had to get done at home, feeling really hungry and tired, needing to pump in a big way and having to pee, all while the creepy guy in the next car tried to get my attention. Um, ew!
When I realized I was on a bridge with about 30 big rigs, I got really freaked out. Those things are NOT supposed to hold all that weight, are they? Then, I looked down and saw this, and realized it was almost bedtime. That’s when I started to cry.
You see, I’ve not been dealing well lately with prioritizing, and I’m really struggling with career goals, family responsibilities and balancing my wants and needs with those of others. I believe wholeheartedly in the concept of attachment parenting (I view it almost like a primal need), and that doesn’t jive well with a Type A, ‘overachiever’ kind of personality and a full time corporate level job with a 65 mile commute, with freelance work on the side.
This is not how it was supposed to be. This is not how I EVER wanted it to be. But how do you complain about your job when your husband is in danger of losing his? Darned housing market…
I’m torn, to say the least, and I’m tired. It’s wearing on me.
I finally rolled in around 7:30 after stopping to quickly grab a quite questionable-looking rotisserie chicken (I had considered a run to Wendy’s, but decided that this day was NOT getting the best of me!) I crawled into the house, briefcase in one hand and sad chicken in the other, only to be greeted with a beaming little semi-toothy smile.
The chicken sat and waited while I read to my little love, nursed him, rocked him, and tucked him safely into bed. The minutes may have been few, but I squeezed in all I could. I would have breathed that boy in if I could have. Once he’d had his fill, Daddy and I had ours: finally, the chicken and some odds and ends (avocado, tomato, etc.) from the kitchen. Not a half bad sammy considering the circumstances.
I considered neglecting my post for the day, but then I remembered that blogging is for me. I deserve it, and I love it. Why do I love it? Because at the end of a bad day, you just might come home to find goodies at your doorstep…
Oh, and because you guys rock! That’s why!
What’s your remedy for a bad day?
How do you find balance, or should I ask do you find balance?
Happier post next time. I promise.