Headspace. Again.

Have to laugh. Have to share.

My efforts to free up headspace have been nothing if not methodical. Identify all of my roles or obligations, then pare the list to just the essentials. Went something like A) eliminate job one, B) offload freelance gig and, C) settle into the set work schedule of job two (now full-time). The sooner I accomplish A, B and C, the sooner I can get back to enjoying my family and myself. And the higher the likelihood that said family will have clean clothes to wear.

So why am I laughing now? Cuz I forgot one of my key roles--that of cruise director. You know, the one responsible for Little League sign-up, keeper of the birthday card and gift list, buyer of said cards and gifts, special event coordinator, etc. Here I was simply trying to keep us all emotionally balanced and in clean clothes when I should also have been getting the boy signed up for spring ball, remembering the upcoming birthday of another little one near and dear to us, making arrangements to get my top-of-the-line breast pump back from one friend and passing it on to another in need, and coordinating the when/where/who details of the big rally car race we're attending Saturday. Oh and oops, remembering that G's normal afterschool daycare arrangements required a slight modification today--like as in he has to be picked up one hour earlier than normal. Duh.

I think I need a man purse.

You know, big enough to keep my planner on my person, in plain view at all times. Not tucked in my backpack or purse.

Sigh. Yeah, humor is my primary coping mechanism. But honestly, I'm losing even that. And the next coping trick? That of finding perspective? That's not working so well for me either. Take these two examples...

Perceived Problem: The Rally Car Race? A two-day event--today and tomorrow. For the past two years, we've attended the first day, meeting the racers at the fun-filled, fan-fare start of the event. This year we're attending just the second day of the event. Because I need to work today--specially since I was off unexpectedly with my sick child last week.

Put Into Perspective: Will we have fun going on day two? Absolutely. Will he meet the racers? Yep. Will I be able to take the day off of work next year? Certainly.

Perceived Problem: Had a thought as I schlepped me and my son to town this morning. The weather. I had a brief image of summer-warm, sunshine-filled days--when words like schlepping or bundling won't even pop into my head. When heading out of the house won't include 12 pounds of winter apparel, mouth-breathing on your scarf or the defroster on high, drowning out all attempts at conversation. It was a funny, looking-forward-to-summer thought, a fairly common thought this time of year in the mid-west.

Until I remembered...yeah, summer. When G will be stuck at daycare all day while I work. Another adjustment.

Put Into Perspective: Will he adjust? Yes. Will I offset those days by arranging playdates for him? You know it. Will I figure out how to get him to swim class, like maybe do it on my lunch hour? You bet.

Everything is fine, everything will work out. So why then do I feel like slinking off to have a good, hard cry?

Boy, this started out to be funny and I talked myself right into tears. Wow. Sorry about that. Let me bring it back around a bit...know what I need? A man like SEP's Bram.

Last night, I finished What I Did For Love by Susan Elizabeth Phillips (SEP). Throughout, the leading man (Bram) asserted himself as husband and protector of the girl (Georgie) using the language of ownership. More than once, he makes it known that her and her problems belong to him now. To her father, he says (paraphrasing), leave her alone, she's not your headache anymore, she's mine. It doesn't matter that they're all independent-minded adults and she, in particular, is no wilting flower--she gives it right back to him from beginning to end. What struck my romantic fancy here was Bram's sense of responsibility to her, for her. Very romantic.

And though the realist in me knows that responsibility (all of it) is shared in any good relationship, the weary wife and mother in me wouldn't mind curling up to a man willing to take it all upon himself. Since, by definition, he will be fictional, LOL....lemme see...who will be my next hero...I've got Brockmann's Dark Of Night (HUUUGGGEEE Thanks to Lori!!!!!!!) and I have Garwood's Fire And Ice (due back at the library right quick). Hmmm.