Finger puppets, born yesterday. Courtesy of The Princess, Elizabeth St Hilaire Nelson, and the Detroit Institute of Art.
My life is not my own.
These are hard words to spit out, being that I am a total, over-the-top, control freak. But it is the truth.
I can't tell you what I did yesterday, but at any given point I can tell you what I'm doing in 5 minutes, 5 hours, and 5 days. And, yet, despite my calendar, things are not playing out as I anticipated.
And that's because of my kids. This last week, my life has become theirs. I am coordinating carpools, planning team meals, delivering forgotten bits of uniforms, volunteering behind the scenes, and cheering maniacally from the sidelines.
School starts on September 4th, but until then, I have my kids (mostly) undivided attention. I say mostly, because they are also focused on marching band, football, and dance, along with squeezing in as much time as possible with friends. And sleeping past noon. But let me tell you, I show up unexpectedly with slurpees for all, and they do pay attention.
Don't get me wrong - it's extremely difficult for me to not be at the easel. Painting is my mental health. But I am also a work-from-home Mom so that I can flex around my kids' calendars.
And now, they sorta want me (or maybe it's the slurpees, but don't ruin the illusion). So I plan on working it.
Kim, who is ok with disillusionment, at least for today
Thursday, August 23, 2012
My Life is Not My Own
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