I Can't Stand to Fly

My husband calls me Wonder Woman - and though it is meant as a compliment, some days I feel like this gal - all dressed up in a costume that just doesn't work for me.

Things are hectic - anyone reading either of our blogs can see that there is a lot of tension because of the workload, and now he's sick. I have been picking up the slack at home - mostly because he doesn't get home until late in the evening. He has been picking up one of the boys from practice - we're rotating which boy - then coming home to do more work. There is no point in making plans because the threat to traveling again looms largely overhead.

Somedays it stinks to be Wonder Woman. It's a fascade - mostly a workable one - but a fascade none the less. Just because I juggle things well out of years of habit, doesn't mean it makes me happy or fulfilled. It has become a necessity - not a pleasure - to get things done and still be working at 11 each night. If I were helpless - if I were needy - if the house fell apart - would there be a bigger effort to make sure my needs were being met? I have a friend with a lot of needs - people seem to come out to the woodwork to offer their help - I am getting a bit more assistance from the kids - but I think that is boredom at the end of summer break. Then I remember, I am a mom first and my needs have taken a back seat ( literally and figuratively) for a long time. But this week, I want to stop being wonder woman.

I know that this will pass, but weeks and weeks of what seems like a frantic pace are taking their toll. I need about eight more hours in a day, I need sleep, I need garden time, I need wife time ( the great surprise getaway I planned for this weekend - shot by football interference both Saturday and Sunday) and I really need a pedicure. Girl has to have her priorities straight.