Going To Sleep and Waking Up A Bit More Peacefully

Up until recently when I lay down in bed at night my mind was out of control with to-do lists, financial worries, stress of being a single working mom, worry about people in my life that were hurting, work concerns and anything else my brain could find to be worried about.

And then when I woke up in the morning, or a couple times during the night, it began all over again. What about this work situation? How will I get the girls to dance on time? Will this person I care about be OK? What about this person? What am I going to do about ...

And then I lost my job.

I should be more stressed right? More worried. The anxiety should probably cause me to lose even more sleep.

Nope. 

Now when I go to bed at night I am grateful for the opportunity to be there for my kids during the day when they need me. I am hopeful about the financial opportunities presenting themselves. I sleep peacefully.

When I wake up, I wake up without the resentment of having to face another crappy day. I wake up looking forward to my day, which is surprisingly busy for not having a full-time job just yet. I am less stressed with the kids in the morning and I don't look at my to-do list with dread. 

I wake up happy.

This post is part of #AprilMoon15, a series of daily writing prompts found at Kat McNally Words To Soothe the Weary Soul.

Perfect Work & A Perfect Reminder

Day 5: Perfect Work

What would your perfect work day be like?

My perfect work day would be a day where I don't feel like I didn't get enough done and I didn't let anyone down. The perfect work day is where when I'm at work I am fully present at work. When I leave work I actually come home to spend quality time with my family, rather than rush off to job number two. And when I'm at home, I am fully present and in the moment at home.

As I read today's #AugustMoon14 writing prompt I thought yeah right, I haven't had a perfect day in what feels like forever. So I figured why even bother trying to write tonight.

As I perused through Facebook I had a notification from an app called God Wants You To Know. Now I could, and should, write a post just about this app and how I have no idea how it got on my Facebook and some of the notifications I've had from it. But tonight, this is what it said:

Today, Jennifer, we believe God wants you to know that ...

you can give yourself more credit.

Are you juggling too much? Sometimes you don't give yourself enough credit for what you do get done in a day. Today, celebrate your accomplishments.

Well that's just apropos for tonight isn't it?

And I actually did have a couple work accomplishments this week. Also,it's the first full week back to school and back to a four night per week dance schedule and so far the kids have had lunches packed and up for school and out the door without any issues. That's a win. I've managed to keep up my personal workouts this week. And I made three blog entries! 

So as I spend the end of my night preparing for tomorrow, I think for tonight I will cut myself some slack and acknowledge that although today wasn't perfect, it wasn't a fail.

This post is part of #AugustMoon, a series of daily writing prompts found at Kat McNally Words To Soothe The Weary Soul.

How Did Mom Do It?

I'm not sure how old I was when my mom went back to work full time. Certainly I was still in elementary school. Maybe once my sister got into first grade? Which means I would have been in fifth grade. I'm not totally sure.

I do remember though we always had access to my mom. We could call her at work and she would always answer. She was at every school function. If there was an emergency, she immediately got up and left her job to be with us. I can only imagine how fast she must have been driving when she got the call I put my hand through the window and was in need of 50 plus stitches. (Now that I think about it, how I put my hand through the window would make a good post. It's totally all my sisters fault. Totally.)

My sister and I were very involved in sports, dance, Girl Scouts and anything else we could convince my parents we just HAD to do. My mom was the primary chauffeur.

I was thinking about all this recently as I struggle with my new role as a full-time working mom yet while still trying to be the chauffeur mom, be-there-for-my-kids mom that my mom always was.

How the hell did she do it all?

I have given this a lot of thought. I can recall very few times we had fast food for dinner. How did my mom work all day, get us to our activities and still  make dinner? And when I say dinner I don't mean the Tyson frozen chicken crap my kids have gotten used to. It was a real dinner. With real vegetables. Eaten at the table.

I don't ever remember either me or my sister standing in the kitchen crying and screaming "I HATE YOUR JOB YOU'RE NEVER HOME ANYMORE" to my mom. Yeah, that's been heard around here. Actually it's been heard around here a lot lately.

But the thing is, I'm pretty lucky to have a flexible job for now. I can't keep the job too much longer because soon I will lose my ex-husbands insurance benefits and I have no retirement savings. So it's time to start thinking more long term to take care of myself in my job search. So really, my kids have it pretty good right now and have a lot of access to me all day. I can only hope, but can't guarantee, this will continue in a new job.

But for now, I can get up and leave at a moments notice. And I have.

My kids can call me anytime. And I answer. If I can't answer my fabulous staff know to answer for me when they see it's one of my kids calling me.

If I can't drive the girls to dance myself I have an older son who helps out when he's not working himself. Or friends to call when I'm really in a bind.

As for dinner, well, I definitely haven't been as successful as my mom there. Chick-fil-A and Lenny's Subs are on our rotating schedule. We pack Lunchables for dinner on our really late nights at the dance school. Meals eaten together at the table are a rare, yet special, event.

I wonder if my mom felt like a failure as often as I do?

I hope my kids forget my failures and remember me in the way I remember my own mom.