The Solution Is: No Solution

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This morning I was looking at my fingernails and thought to myself, "I should get a manicure." And then I laughed out loud. Like I have time for a manicure. I've had an unused gift certificate for a manicure since last Mother's Day.

I know many women will say, "you have to take care of yourself first." But really, who does that?

Have you ever read that story that made the e-mail rounds a few years ago about the mother who tells the father that she is going to bed and then she does like 800 things before she finally makes it there? Dad meets mom coming to bed about the time she finishes her 800 things and says "I thought you said you were coming to bed hours ago."

That's my life. I'm sure it's yours, too.

Yesterday evening I boiled water for tea three times before I finally made a cup. Then I took it up to bed with me and when I finally sipped it, it was cold. Story of your life?

I am constantly trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong. What can I change so that I have more time for myself? Even if it's just to get on the treadmill for 20 minutes (I'm not doing very well there). How do I squeeze more time out of a day? I get up before 7 and go to bed after 11. I'm sure I could sleep less, but I wouldn't be worth much.

I could give up blogging, but that's only about 20 minutes (o.k., that could be the treadmill time except I never sit down at the computer for 20 consecutive minutes). I can't not teach the children -- that's the bulk of the time I spend each day. And I can't not do laundry and ironing. I can't not do the dishes and clean the pink mildew out of the toilets (do your toilets grow pink stuff too?). I can't not make the one hour round trip to pick up my high schooler, or spend the hour(s) with him doing geometry at night (last night it was two and a half hours -- torturous). I can't not cook meals.

Can I ignore my children when they ask for help? That's only about 100 interruptions in a day. Usually the interruptions are, in my opinion, a waste of time. "Can you find me whatever?" "Do you know where my whatever is?" "Can I have a snack, a drink, some attention, pleeeease?" Can I say "go away, you're botherin' me kid"?

No, I can't. Being available to meet their needs is their security. So that they know, even when mom is really ticked off about something, "I know she loves me."

The only sacred thing for me, that I don't give up for anyone (well, almost never), is prayer time. Quiet time with God.

So yesterday, when I was completely frazzled, and wondering for the millionth time (do you think I exaggerate a little?) what I could change to make more time for me, I realized that my life is like the occasional algebra problem. The solution is: no solution. Except for prayer time, and the occasional school holiday, there is no time for me and that's apparently the way it should be. I am the mother of four children. Granted one's in college, but he consumes loads of worry time. The other three are ages six to sixteen. There are a variety of needs between the ages of six and sixteen and I'm the mom to meet the needs. There is nothing to solve here.

"Me time" will come, hopefully, some other day. And then again, maybe not.


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