Thinkin' Things...

My mind is a jumble of things that need to be done, the importance of each thing, long term, short term, overdue things...  I can barely type about it without it feeling like my thoughts become a ball of yarn stuck in a lawn mower.  See?  Even my analogies don't make sense.

I'm trying to crank out some work for my husband's company because the extra money is needed, like, yesterday.  Quarterly bills have come pouring in (insurances mostly).  The house screams to be completely gutted of stuff.  I still need to gather pallets to prep for fencing in our yard.  All of the glorious rain we've had has led to a jungle-like front yard that begs to be weeded.  The artwork on my walls, while endearing, needs painting over.  Dings in the walls need patching and painting.  Some kids are feeling sick and need my attention.  I'm not feeling spread too thin, but I am feeling pulled in too many directions.

All I want to do is sit with my sewing machine and crank out my overdue maxi skirts, go thrifting for a small console table so I can make a coffee bar in our kitchen, switch the office and craft desks, tend to my sick kiddos, and have ONE DAY where all of the laundry is clean, folded, and put away.

It looks like I'll be whipping out my trusty notebook and mapping out what needs doing, when it needs doing, and the budget allotment for each project.  As always, purging will happen first.  That is really the only certainty.

Oh, and Kid #3 has her 6th birthday on Saturday.  Somewhere in the cracks of the next two or three days, I have to make a chalkboard for her, get her cake made, assembled, and decorated, and make a dress that she wants.  I'll be making the chalkboard (Pinterest saves the day again!) and the dress will be easy enough.  It's finding the time to shop and assemble that's the trick.  Baaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh...

All of this on top of the day-to-day that needs to happen.

But you know what?  As much as I wail lamentations about all of this, I really do enjoy every moment. The stress, the panic, the confusion, and the disorganization is almost comforting.  It means I'm alive, I'm well, I'm facing the challenges that come with being a wife and mom.  It sweetens the moments of validation and success that make their rare appearance.  It gives me greater cause to rejoice in my successes and learn from my failures.  It gives me the push to always try harder and do better.

If all of this were easy, it wouldn't be any fun.