I am the Scarecrow! (Confessions of a stressed out, working mom.)

So, I've pretty much determined that my head is full of straw.  I am the scarecrow from Wizard of Oz, and I so desperately wish that I had a brain. I used to have a brain, or at least something closely resembling it, rattling around up there, but no more.  A working mom (well, all moms really, but working outside the home full-time takes it to another level) seriously has to stretch to meet all of the needs and demands from those around, and sometimes - more than I'd like to admit, I fall so very short.  Don't get me wrong, I am not one that has a hard time saying, "No."  I don't like to over-commit myself or my children.  However, sometimes there isn't much of anything I can take off my plate. I simply have to take a deep breath, dig in, and ask for forgiveness when the peas begin to spill on the floor.  Often I can see the peas rolling off the plate, but other times I am so focused on some other portion that I fail to even notice that I've made a mess.  Lack of a brain. 

I'm pulled in so many different directions.  Work requires my attention, energy, and focus for 8+ hours a day, plus 30 minutes to eat.  My commute takes up another 2 1/2 total, on average, plus another 20-30 minutes picking up the kids at their various afternoon locales.  I am not one of those super-powered people that can function well on a lack of sleep, so a solid 7-8 (and more would be nice) hours of sleep is a must, even with the kiddos.  This is so true that my wonderful husband has learned that it's better for him to get up in the middle of the night when the baby wakes (thankfully, a rare occurrence now) - happy wife, happy life!  It also helps that our youngest actually prefers him to me at night, and has since day one, even when I was still nursing her.  (She has him so tight around her little pinky I'm surprised she has any circulation left in that particular appendage.)

So anyways, where was I?  Oh, 8.5 for work + 2.5 commute + .5 kid pick-up + 8 for sleep = 19.5 hours a day, gone.  4.5 hours left.  1 hour to get myself up, showered and out the door with baby in tow.  3.5 hours left. 1 hour spent on feeding the baby in the evening and cooking dinner for the rest of the gang. 2.5 hours left. 1 hour for dishes, tidying up, and planning/packing up lunches in the evenings (although I admit this is frequently completed by Mike on his way out the door in the morning). 1.5 hours left per day.  Once school resumes again, take another hour away for helping kids with homework, but for now we're on a reprieve from that, so...

...1.5 hours left per working day to spend quality time with God, to spend quality time with the kids, to spend quality time with Mike, to spend quality time with me (!), and not to mention laundry, serious cleaning, meal planning, grocery shopping, visiting with friends and extended family, and shuffling to and from kids' activities (which are nonexistent right now due to the restrictiveness of our budget).  Oh, and don't forget exercise - so not happening right now.  Is it any wonder that I look around me and always see straw scattered all around!

Confession time: I forgot to send in pictures for Jellybean's Father's Day present she was making at school this week.  And I forgot to send in her chips for her class party yesterday.  And I wasted nearly 20 minutes of mine and my boss' time yesterday searching for a file that he desperately needed that I had managed to mis-file.  And I spent nearly 25% of our grocery budget for the week on pizza last night so I didn't have to cook (and that was after having served Burger King, PB&J sandwiches, frozen pizzas, and I can't even remember what else on various nights this past week). And I was supposed to have a movie night with Mr. Four Walls last night while the older girls had their own movie night on a different T.V., but instead I fell asleep with the baby getting her to sleep.  Then when I did wake, I sleepily staggered into my own bed where I promptly went back to sleep for the rest of the night - no goodnight kisses to the other kids, no "Sorry, hon.  Can I take a raincheck?" to Mr. Four Walls. All week I stashed the unfolded laundry into the back of our closet instead of folding it, just in case someone came to see the house (which they didn't  - sigh).  All in all it's been a stellar week, if I may say so - or at least one for the record books, if a record book is kept for mothering ineptitude.

Now I'm off to set the foundation for a better week (and hopefully a restful Father's Day for Mr. Four Walls) around the Four Walls home: laundry folding, kitchen and bathroom scrubbing, HEALTHY meal planning and shopping, etc, etc, etc. I apologize to my friends and family if it has been your "pea" that has rolled from my plate, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart if you have helped me contain any of the scrumptious, green vegetables that I let roll away.  I also apologize in advance to my friends and family if they find any of my brain matter in their food or in their homes.  At least it's only straw and can be easily discarded - or fed to the neighbor's horses.