I cannot seem to etch out even a little bit of time for mommy as of late. I have not had my hair cut in, um... almost.... I have no clue, but I think it was part of my daily document thing.
Last Saturday, I did my nails. Shaped, smoothed, buffed, polished. But only my left hand. My right hand remains unfinished.
I have a dear friend who is due with her first in about three weeks. Her baby shower card, from WEEKS ago? Unsigned. Part of the gift? Unfinished.
I started watching a documentary on the Kennedys. Because, hello, I was a history major and I'm a total nerd and I like to watch that stuff for fun, and have recently started to miss college because I haven't written a research paper in AGES. Yup. You guessed it. Unfinished.
The curtains in Ansley's new room have been put up, and the paint colors picked out, and the plan laid out perfectly in my mind. But the project itself. Unfinished. Actually, not really even started.
I could keep going: the numerous knitting projects, the bags of clothes to go to Goodwill, but have not yet made it to the car, the several books I have dog-eared around the house, the refinancing paperwork, cleaning out the refrigerator, the laundry, a plethora of blog posts....
I used to work for a newspaper. As much as I hated the stress that came with a deadline, my best work came as that time approached. In college, it was the same. My 38-page thesis? Yup, pretty much written in two days. I have always felt that I work better under pressure. But I think it is finally catching up to me.
Because not only have I stopped working well under pressure, it makes me pretty much stop working. I do the same thing every day. And I love it. Don't get me wrong. But after a long day at work, and a long, sometimes trying evening with Queen of the Terrible Twos, by the time I get her to sleep (which seems to be getting later and later), and I'm able to do a little bit of housework (I'm talking, the dishes washed and the tornado of toys cleaned up), I don't have the energy to read a few pages. Or paint my nails. Or take off the unmatching nail polish from when Ansley decided to paint my nails.
I know it gets better. And I know I wouldn't trade what I have for anything. But, I'm not going to lie. I hate leaving things unfinishe