So much to say...

... so little brain power.

Sometimes there is so much noise in my head that I can't even imagine what it would be like if I tried to speak even half of it aloud.

It might go something like this:

Good lord.
I am so f-ing tired.
Is this my life?
Do we have milk?
What am I supposed to be doing now?
I should make a list of all the things I could be doing.
Why do we never have any pens?
I should go for a walk.
I should get off the couch.
What am I going to do for work?
Am I completely messing my child up by spending so much time being frustrated by her?
What is up with my husband's family?
How on earth am I supposed to juggle being a wife and a mother and still be just me?
How do I sort out daycare and my work at the same time?
Maybe we should move to California.
Will we ever have money to take a real vacation?
I want to be fitter.
I wonder if I'll ever sing again.

Seriously, that's what runs through there in any given thirty second segment.

I realize as I listen to the chatter in my head, how I waste a lot of time wanting my life to be one way when it is another and how I don't do much to change it to get closer to what I want. In my fantasy life I am super active and fit, I don't eat crap like crackers, I have a close network of friends who have lives like mine (riddled with small children) and we have families we do stuff with, I expand my cooking repertoire, eat organic, make smoothies, always look on the bright side of life rather than bitching about how tired and frustrated I am, practice yoga regularly, have a job I love that brings meaning to my life... basically the life I envision as being the 'perfect' one for me is the opposite of how I live right now.


I've been reading "Buddhism for mothers of small children" and from that I could glean that I suffer from perfectionist syndrome of always focusing on what isn't there, thinking 'if only' then things would be perfect and I'd be able to do x,y and z. I know I do focus on getting things done as though at the end of doing, something magical is going to happen - oh, if only I organize the basement then.... right.

I know I've struggled the past three years and, honestly, going through the rest of my life this way is going to make me and everyone around me miserable. I don't want to spend my children's childhood hating them for being children and being frustrated with their every mis-step as they learn - I am terrified that I am creating a little girl who is going to spend her life feeling as though she is struggling to be perfect so I'll love her. Lord knows what I'll do to her little brother. I don't want to be frustrated with my spouse because I'm the one with boobs who is stuck at home feeding the infant while he gets to go off to work (as though going to work carries no stress with it....).

Somehow accepting the perfect imperfection of my life might be the thing that actually turns things around for me. Just letting what is be what is. Maybe imperfect is perfect. The book suggests that a loving kindness meditation is the ticket for someone like me. I can see how that might work.

Now, if I can only muster the brain power to remember to do it....
Where did I put that book again?