As I sit here in my office there are a hundred other things I should be doing instead of updating my sorry excuse for a blog. But by damn, I cannot and will not go another day without some small semblance of a creative outlet in my life.
Recently, I am Mama, and all that goes with it - wiper of noses, reader of stories, maker of lunches, warmer of bottles, and soother of owies, not to mention cleaner of toilets, scrubber of counters, baker of muffins, mopper of floors, payer of bills, doer of laundry. It's been a long time since I was just Paige, Creative Person. Writer of stories. Singer of songs. Painter of pictures. Organizer of closets (and oh yes, I perhaps miss the organizing the very most).
Carter will be 18 months old tomorrow, and I am finally getting around to attempting a balance between Mommy and, well, Me. For a year and a half, it's been all Carter, all the time, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Our boy is beautiful and brilliant and a hundred thousand other superlatives and I love every exhilarating, exhausting, exasperating moment with him. I love that he's suddenly speaking in sentences, and we can actually have conversations. I love that he says please and thank you. I love hearing him learn to count - "TWO! Two footballs!" I love that he finds me endlessly hilarious. I even love that when he wakes up in the middle of the night during the current teething/18-month sleep regression/insanity that seems to have overtaken us for the past several nights, he only wants Mama (no hard feelings, honey).
...but occasionally, Mama needs a break. And that's okay. Because it's okay to have lunch with a girlfriend instead of going to visit him at daycare. And it's okay to get a haircut during his Saturday nap instead of frantically scrubbing the bathtub and scouring the sink. It's okay to attempt - dare I say it? - balance.
Work has been brutal for the past several months. One of my co-workers left the company in early December, reducing our two-person department down to yours truly. I've been running things by myself ever since, and doing a damn fine job of it, if I do say so myself - but it's no walk in the park. At the end of the day, I have just enough energy to pick Carter up at daycare and do dinner-bath-bedtime before I pass out in a delirious fog on the (sweet, beautiful, luscious) couch.
I've been working hard, and I'm proud of myself. For months, I've been busting my arse to be the A+ employee and the A+ Mama, but I've definitely been flunking the Nurturing Paige's Sanity course, and probably getting a B- on Being Affectionate to Your Husband (again - sorry, LOML).
So here I go, starting slow. I've been having lunch with friends. I cut my mop of hair, and even styled it (okay, once). I fully plan to do my nails one of these days. And maybe, just maybe, I will dust off my old journal, put pen to paper (gasp!), and just be Paige again.