I hate when these moms talk about balancing their lives, like we ever do. Just when I get into a nice groove, the seasons change or my grocery deliver service closes. Or, I get excited about writing and stay up too late blogging.
I think balance is too strong a word. At it's most centered, my life is a plane. It goes up or down, and then seeks to level off. Whenever I fly, be it in a small engine plane or a large passenger plane, I usually fall asleep on take off. I can't help it. Usually, by the time I get to the plane, I am so exhausted from planning and packing for the trip that I just pass out as soon as we start to taxi.
Perhaps I have body memories of my hours on the commuter trains in Southeastern Pennsylvania. The R5 would rock me to sleep in less than 10 minutes. I always checked to made sure there were no greasy head prints on the window from earlier passengers. Once the window checked out, I'd wedge my bag between me and the side of the train as a softer arm rest, and zonk out for an hour. I am all in favor of public transportation.
Another reason that I sleep on takeoff is that I find it really stressful. I dont' like to surrender my liberty of movement. Being plastered against the seat barely able to move my head or my arms with ears popping during the thrust of liftoff is just too much for this control freak. Further, the thought of being hurled off of the big, blue marble in space makes a blackout seem very attractive. Finally, the plane is too loud and I always end up on the wing.
I used to create chemically induced blackouts, but I had even less control over that state of being than flying. Blackouts whilst flying are a sure introduction to the air marshall. It's easier to clutch the armrests and pray, until sleep overtakes me.
I always come to when I feel the plane start to level off to it's cruising altitude. Flying becomes civilized with drinks and snacks, even if I have to bring my own. I find it incredibly reassuring to have a bathroom available to me within a few steps.
Same is true for my life. When in the process of change, I start grasping at tangibles. For this reason, keeping the kid in same preschool schedule during the week is crucial for both of us. We otherwise have general schedule with flexibility. We do it in one or two hour blocks. Meals and snacks usually break it up.
Oddly enough, every major change in my life has yielded terrific results, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Yet, I am trembling during takeoff thinking, this change is going to launch me into a state from which I shall never return and it's going to be bad. If I don't acknowledge this line of thinking in the presence of a sane friend, it gets louder and louder. Eventually, the fear seems like absolute truth.
I have seen this drama more than the sum total of episodes of the Monkees, Gilligan's Island, The Brady Bunch and Bewitched put together. I never seem to tire of any of these.
Somehow, every time things begin to level off, I remember the truth. Oh yeah, all is well. I forgot. Again.
I suspect the kid is going to have this same drama. I hope I can be more patient and reassuring for her than I usually am with myself.
The only reason "fasten yourself in you're in for a bumpy ride" is at all comforting is knowing that the other passengers are sitting right with you. Usually, there is at least one person on the plane who has kept the peace for the rest of us. Occasionally, that person is me. But not, as yet, today. Luckily, I have six workable hours left.
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