The Pinkeye Proposal

          Hello, there it's been awhile. How've you been?

    Me? Oh, just peachy.  Perpetual exhaustion of both body and mind is grueling, but not impossible to live with.  If you know how and when to cut yourself a break, that is.  And I have had to cut myself a lot of those little breaks lately. 

    Self-care seems to be gaining in popularity as a concept that is crucial to a healthy lifestyle.  We moms have known this for ages, as is evident in the old saying "If Momma ain't happy, nobody's happy".  While the 21st-century ideal of Supermom persists, such a ridiculous standard is both unrealistic and potentially harmful.  One can't do it all, take care of home and family, and career, and keep up one's appearance without something slipping through the cracks.  And that "something" is usually Mommy's sanity. 

    So, what's a mom to do in this conundrum?  I've found the answer usually has something to do with a private shower, chocolate consumption, an adult movie or tv show, or some combination of the above.  In the ongoing battle with depression, fighting my own brain daily is already exhausting without adding the cute but wild antics of two small children.  Something's gotta give, and that's okay.

     Today, that something giving is my four-year-old daughter's dance class, which she loves tremendously.  She was just diagnosed with pinkeye this morning, and although the doctor said it was clearing up enough for her to attend dance class, I am going to keep her home.  I am too damn exhausted and stressed to even dream of loading both girls plus baggage again today, and really it's the polite thing to do.  Nobody wants their kid near the one whose eye is oozing boogers.

   So I made myself a proposal, that if I muscled out a little more productivity by getting the kid's eye drops and making sure she takes them (stay tuned for highlights from THAT wrestling match), I can cut myself some slack the rest of the day.  And really, this is a very reasonable offer I made myself.  After all, I work full days plus erratic nights getting up with a toddler who is very attached to my breasts. 

    I'm not here to moan about how hard I've got it, because really I'm doing pretty well.  I don't have to obsess over our bank account balance before every shopping trip, all our bills are paid in a timely manner, and our health insurance is royally awesome.  So what's the harm in a pajama day at home, drinking cold coffee and knitting?

     The Supermom cape can go hang itself.