Friday, May 1, 2009


I am stretched thin. Or maybe, even though that's the cliche, it's thinly. I'm too tired to think, and my brain is only hardwired for hydrocarbon derivatives at the moment.

Going back to school did not fill in an available gap in my life. There was no gap. Going back to school squished and wiggled its way in between a myriad of obligations on my time, kind of like how I always try to get just one more book onto my already full bookshelves. It is a constant effort for me to stay on top of the coursework that I am responsible for. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I had to read Romeo and Juliet and Silas Marner, and by Thursday night I also had to have two chapters on Saturated and Unsaturated Hydrocarbons read, outlined, and all the problems worked out before showing up at class. I seriously finished at the last minute, so relieved, and not without a small degree of satisfaction. Oh, and seventeen piano lessons each week, my own four children (their school schedules, work schedules, Boy Scouts, Cub Scouts, baseball, Speech therapy, etc.), fanning the flames in my marriage, keeping up with my church calling, and trying to keep my house in a modicum of order (and that's about all it is). I try to squeeze every available minute dry. I never have nothing that I don't have to be doing.

I'm not complaining. I love what I am learning. I'm grateful for my life. I do wish that I could awaken, instead of having to wake up, if you know what I mean. I wish I could sleep until I was finished. It's hard waking up every day so dog tired. I remember vividly the puffy bags my mom always had under her eyes, and I don't remember her ever getting to take a nap, like I am able to do several times a week, for about 20 minutes each afternoon, just to survive. I think of how tired I am and it makes me appreciate my mom all the more. She had to be more tired. Had to be. And I'm also aware that much of my tiredness is my own fault, because I haven't yet kicked the emotional eating thing, turning to sugary no-good foods for a quick pick-me-up when I'm stressed or tired or worried. And I'm also aware that I would feel so much better if I would exercise more. I haven't gotten my 10,000 steps consistently for over a month, and I feel it. Then I feel guilty about that, so that emotional eating thing comes back. Vicious cycle. Time for some internal spring cleaning. Now, where will that fit?

I also miss my friends. I miss my Amber, my Luisa, my Piper, my Jenn, my Sara, so many others, and my family. I've been a terrible corresponder/phone caller/blog reader/letter and email writer/card sender/birthday rememberer/gift giver. But it's not because I don't love you, or care about you. Or miss you. Or crave a weekend away with you, even just to talk. I'm just living on an almost empty tank and hoping that you're so busy you aren't getting your feelings hurt, or getting mad at me. I'm hoping I haven't depleted all my forgiveness points.

My plate is full. I'm doing the best I can. Shining in some places, floundering in others. I know you understand. I know I'm not alone, or doing any more than anyone else, or as well as others can. I'm also aware that this won't last forever, and I am very, very lucky.

I have 5 days left of being 35, and then it's this side of 40. That's fine, really, but I need to do some fine tuning, some adjusting and tweaking. Life is happening so fast.

For now, I have to get back to work. And for the next 30 minutes, that work is going to be snuggling with Conor and watching a video. Life is full, but it's also loaded. And I am blessed.


Kimberly Vanderhorst said...

Better a full plate than an empty one, I suppose, but how exhausting it must be not to have space in which to breathe!

amber said...

You must know how incredibly amazing you are. I am constantly in awe of all you do. I love you and I know you love me and that is all that matters. I am inspired by you! Someday your kids will think of you like you do your mom. You are incredible. You are loved.

Loves, Amber

Abby said...

And when you DO finally get some time to know you're always way more than welcome out here. Relaxxxx..get away. Let someone else take care of you for a while.

You're amazing, Jenna.

Luisa Perkins said...

No, it's "thin." Adjectival use, and all that.

Speaking from the *far* side of 40, you're doing an amazing job. I'm so very proud of you. When does the semester end?

Saint Holiday said...

There must be room in the day for joyful, mindless, unobligated breathing. When you find it, tell me where it is. Don't let all the compression break you down. Because I love you and want to see you well and happy.

The Ancient One

Kortni said...

Do you remember what you did 5 years ago on your birthday? . . . .Or maybe you would rather not go there :)

Love ya,


Annette Lyon said...

I thought I was busy and tired . . .

YogaNana said...

I had bags under my eyes? Hmmm, never noticed. Or maybe I never had time to notice. :o) Or maybe I still have them and they seem normal to me.

Someday it *will* slow down, and it will have been worth it. You're doing a remarkable job.


Scribbit said...

Isn't it funny how you can have those feelings of being frazzled yet realizing how great you have it? Quite a contradiction.

I hope the load eases up soon. And that the birthday is wonderful :) Welcome to this side of 40!

Rachel Sue said...

I'm so sorry you're feeling like that. I have gone through similar phases in my life, and while everything that I'm doing is so worthwhile, it is so wonderful when things calm down a little. I hope you get a break soon to rest and catch your breath.

* said...

Love your thoughts. What are you studying? I like how you hope to "awaken" and not just have to "wake up"...

School isn't easy but so worth it, I think (2 degrees later). At least that's what I'm telling my kids.

Life isn't easy for us mamas. Here's hoping you get a daily 20 min. nap in (I got mine today & feel chipper for it, but now find I'm blogging instead of doing yoga...with time management there's always that dreadful trade off of choosing one fun/good thing instead of another.)

I wish you the best.