Crows feet, Laugh Lines and the Celebration of Responsibility

Lately I've been feeling sort of crushed under the weight of my own responsibility. I feel compacted, flattened by my own routine. Like most moms of school age kids, I am one efficient mama in the mornings. Everything is done with the thought of what I can do while I'm waiting on something else. I get up, shower and wash my hair, unload the dishwasher, make my youngest child's breakfast and lunch, help my oldest child get ready for the early middle school bus, do a final check for homework, gym shoes, and give them all a rundown on after school plans. After they all get to school, I do the dishes, start the day's laundry, clean the bathrooms, vacuum the floors, wipe down the windows and mirrors and take the dogs for a walk. Then I start my workday. Also like a lot of moms with school age kids, I relish routines because I know that if something's important enough to be done every day, it has to fit into my routine. Once it's in my daily schedule, it becomes something I don't question. I just do it. And then every so often, I take a look at how my life has plodded along and I realize that while I was doing the same old thing, I got old. My kids grew out of their toddler shoes. Also, I lost all sense of adventure. Adventure is, by definition, not part of the routine, and so it wasn't accounted for. It got left out. I am like a machine, an automaton. And I begin to get demoralized when I realize that I am so good at my routine that – if I don't do things – they don't get done. If I go to bed before someone else and I don't turn off all the lights beforehand, they are still blazing when I wake up in the morning. It's not that everyone in my home is irresponsible. I actually feel (finally) that my kids are learning to be pretty conscientious little people. I'm not doing too much for them, it's just that running a home with three kids and two dogs and two businesses comes with a lot of daily tasks – which I do. It's also not that the other members of my family don't care. It's that I've been doing it for as long as anyone can remember, so it's no longer part of anyone else's routine to do any part of my job. My mother-in-law tried to give me some important marital/domestic advice when I was a very young bride. I forgot to listen (as I did quite a lot when I was a very young bride) and it was to my peril. "If you do something often enough – on a regular basis, it will become your job for the next 70 years," she warned. "Be very careful about what you do often and on a regular basis. Be very careful about the jobs you take on." It's fun to watch moms who also forgot to listen to advice of this kind. We can wipe up messes, tell three kids to put their shoes away, quiz someone for tomorrow's Spanish test and fry an egg – all at the same time. I have become a multitasker, despite myself. As a writer, I value greatly the singular focus, which I get when they are all at school (thank goodness). And maybe it's because I need a quick vacation but, lately, I've been feeling especially trampled by these responsibilities. Also lately, I've been on a big time positive thinking kick. That is because it has become suddenly clear to me that the more I focus on the positive aspects of my life, the more open I become to the solutions I need. The more I can stop ranting and start appreciating, the more quickly the answers to my problems become clear. Obvious even. As long as I can get out of a negative space and into a positive one, answers come to me, along with greater surges of happiness. And so I have been keeping an ongoing Word document on my computer desktop in which I list all of the positive things, thoughts, ideas, and activities in my life. I try to add every little thing that brings me joy in the day to day routine/adventure of my life. Today, I write something that takes me by surprise. Today I say that I am grateful for all of my responsibilities – because they indicate that I am living almost my entire life in service to others. And it means that just about everything I do matters. It actually matters to someone. Someone whom I love. Now that is something to be grateful for. And, for today, in this somewhat routine season of my life, it is enough.