Sure. I talk about the ease in which I manage a blog, take on projects, juggle four kids, appease my husband, shop for and cook healthy meals, and still find time for girlfriends, wine and running. Sometimes, I fail to mention how vulnerable I am.
Like tonight, for example. My husband, what I like to call, “dropped a bomb on me” at about 2:00 this afternoon. He would be leaving for an entire week on a business trip, missing our daughter’s first dance recital (which also included a father/daughter dance), our son’s basketball game, possibly my birthday and Father’s Day all rolled up into one fun week of added stress, no sleep, and constant running around for everyone else other than me. Immediately, I was the one who had to call all of our sitters/nannies to see where they could help out. I had specifically enrolled our two older kids in summer camp to avoid having to pay nannies, now, we were doubling our expenses. Not to mention, I had just taken on a writing project, which was going to mean personal time on my end, hired a fitness trainer, and scheduled in some tennis lessons in hopes that while the bigger kids were being entertained for a week, I could actually get in some “me” time. Right? Right.
Instead of me being the person I envisioned me being…the laid back, wavy haired, cool goddess who can handle anything…four kids? no problem. Two of them are 9 month old twins? No problem. You’ll be gone for a week galavanting with “the boys” at a golf tournament? Seriously? Is that the best you got? You can’t ruffle my feathers….immediately I turned into a complete basket case who couldn’t stop crying and fighting with her RockStarHusband. The whole time, I’m thinking to myself, “This is not me. This is not who I am. Why I am reacting like this? I can handle this.”
Here is what I narrowed it down to:
1. He doesn’t respect my own work. I am trying so hard to create the life I want to live by pursuing a career in writing, and I don’t feel supported. But when he needs support, all hands on deck! We all change our lives to support his goals, wants and needs.
2. I’m trying to be budget conscience by not having to hire a nanny full time considering we are on a one-person income for our family of 6. We saved the money to put the big kids in camp, I sacraficed my personal time to take care of the twins full time so we could just have help when we needed it. Now I have to give up that dinero I could be spending on a new post-pregnancy wardrobe update for me so my nannies can look cute!
3. I’m a major traditionalist and I hate that he is away and misses family milestones like my daughter’s 1st recital, and my son’s first basketball game. I hate that it is during Father’s Day, which happens to be my birthday, and that he has to be gone. It’s not an option. Or is it?
4. Because finally, he gets to sleep in a 5-star hotel every night, eat out every day, have cocktails and guy time without any responsibility, while I’m stuck at home with his 4 children, doing my best to survive.
Really, it all boils down to number 4. And every time he springs these business trips on me, every time, I go into a rant and rave, I get stressed out, pissed off, jealous, and angry. Let’s face it. I am jealous…I want real “me” time. I want to be able to say to him one day, “I’m going to take a week’s vacation. I’m going to stay in a super fancy hotel where they answer my beck and call and I can drink all day and party all night because I don’t have to wake up at 7am every morning, change diapers, feed kids and get through the drop off/pick up. And we won’t have to hire extra help because you are going to be with your children 24/7, so I get to take that extra money and spend it on ME!” Now that would be real “me” time. Screw this “girl’s day at the spa” shit. I want a five day vacation from my husband and my kids. Where I get to sleep in until I wake up!
Yeah. I’m a big talker. Day 2, I’d be missing my little ones and be ready to go home. Shoot. I’d even miss my husband. In the meantime, still working on that laid back, wavy haired, cool goddess who can handle anything.