The Windmills of My Mind
My friend Amy found this Fisher Price record player in the sale tables last night and we flipped out thinking of the days without cell-phones, Pandora and Disney On-Demand. She bought it on the spot for less than $10, and I went home wondering how much it might list for right now on eBay. Then I hoped she’d never sell it.
Only one or two of my items sold today, but that wasn’t nearly as disappointing as the self-defeat I met at home.
Simply put, the things I do and why I do them make no sense to anyone but me. Which means *almost* everything I’ve done for the past 19 months has been a colossal waste of time. That’s such a devastating feeling, I don’t even know where to go with it.
I will always wonder whether I missed too much of Ashley, Sarah & Emma’s first year just trying to keep up. And yet, what else could I do? Also? LOOK AT THEM. They’re awesome. I mean, really. Who gets it this good? And when is the lightning going to strike me dead?
The first several months of their life, I was constantly being accused of having post-partum depression. I’m still being accused of making things complicated. As though having triplets isn’t enough to warrant both of those things.
I never had time for the first; I’m trying my damnedest on the second. There are so many things that have to be done. Whether anyone else understands why or not. I do them the best way I can think of.
Maybe the world doesn’t end if those things don’t happen ONE day out of all the days between those I’m away for more than 2 hours.
But the list of things that NEED to be done, or even the things I just WANT to be done – eventually – that list keeps building. My world has shrunk 3000% and I’m using a compass that only points to criticism.
Right now, I’m losing ground. I’ve lost perpective. I’m overwhelmed. And I know complaining won’t fix it. So I’m going to try to chuck that compass and shut up about it for a while.
The best thing I can do is to remember to breathe, look for a fresh start tomorrow, and try again.