Finding time for everything and wasting time with Sparks the Night

I love this little blog I've created. It lets me vent and create all at the same time. But it has been suffering because of my family. I'm sure every woman goes through this--I know most of my good friends do, and lately I have been feeling it as well. Wondering how women get everything done and still have time for themselves. I mean, I don't ask for a lot. But the point is there is never enough time to get done all I want to get done. And that includes sleep. I never get enough sleep.

Being a mother means giving up part of yourself. People trying to get pregnant, who want children more than anything need to realize that children mean giving up who think you are. Not that there's anything wrong with that, not that I would change anything--I feel like my family completes me and has made me a better me--and more than that, they have made me realize it isn't all about me. But everyone, I mean, EVERYONE, needs something that makes them a little more. I like a couple of things (well, more than that, but . . . ) and I think if I get to do them they make me a better person. But finding time to do them is difficult, and finding time to do one of them means the other things I like to do suffer. Do you follow? No? Well, let me explain a little.

Okay, so the four (I know I said a couple, but my first swim coach taught me that a couple could be anywhere from two to twenty) things I really like to do are exercise, read, write and socialize. I also have two daughters, ages almost-10 and 8 (actually, almost 9, but that remembering that they're only 15 months apart reminds me of the first four years of their lives and how little sleep I actually got), and their activities keep me running. Dance, swimming, lacrosse, school volunteering, PTO, IEP meetings (for my younger daughter--more on that at a later date), doctor appointments (again, for my younger daughter), play dates, parks, sleepovers . . . I'm exhausting myself. Plus there are all the things that I don't do for them that I feel like they should be learning--ice skating, skiing, reading clubs, family hikes, family bike rides . . . that make me even more tired. Yes, they are in school all day, but I work (from home, but I do work), and I'm married (and sometimes he is a big child), and both of those things take time out of my life. Again, I like my work and I love my husband, but they cut into 'me time.'

So, what I've found is that I can usually get one thing in a day that is all mine IF I keep my life the way it is. I can combine somethings; when I do the elliptical I can read, and when I'm working or writing I can listen to books. But that is about it. Reading and and swimming don't work well together, nor does writing and socializing. Kinda rude to rip out the laptop while we're pouring out our lives over wine and flatbread pizzas.

I'm sorry that my blog has been suffering, but I think I have a solution. I think I've got to start getting up earlier and writing. At 6:00. Yep, that sounds really good at 7:30 on a Sunday night. But getting up is another thing. My creative muse needs to get in there and overpower the sandman so I can get up at 6:00. Guess I'll start getting my muse to the gym and attempt to weaken the sandman. He is REALLY strong. I mean offensive lineman strong. So the muse will have to use different muscles to overpower him. I think she can do it. I mean, women have inner strength that men dream about, right?

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Speaks the Nightbird by Robert McCammon

This book was a great story wrapped up in way to much descriptive narrative. I listened to this book, otherwise I could not have finished it. If I had been reading it, there is no way I could have made it through the first half, because the first half was incredibly boring, and, as noted above, my life is too busy to waste on boring books. It was perfect for work; I like background noise while I work, and that's what the first half was--background noise. It meandered and wandered down dead ends, but that was okay while I worked.

By the time it got to the story I was, luckily for me, just enough invested in the characters to keep listening. The actual story was wonderful--mysterious, interesting and thrilling. It took a long time to get the goods, but once there it was worth it. The dead ends seem to find the highway, finding its way to the meat of the story. McCammon does a great job of bringing in all the interesting characters and story lines from the first bit of the book and helping them make sense. It just takes a long while.

 Bottom line: if you have time, read this book. It doesn't seem to be available on Kindle, but I would suggest listening to it on a long car ride. Or maybe at night when you are trying to go to sleep. It is available abridged (31 + hours) or unabridged (41 + hours).

Get Speaks the Nightbird hard copy or audio at Amazon

No dinner out and The Dinner by Herman Koch

Last night we made plans to take the girls to dinner at our local Mexican restaurant. I grew up on Mexican food, and moving to Ohio has not provided us with many great chances for good Mexican food-except in our little town. We have a great little hole in the wall with  good chimichangas, decent burritos and great Margaritas. They are inexpensive and Tuesday is kids eat free night. And it means I don't have to cook or do the dishes. But we didn't make it.

Now, I am a lucky woman because my husband can cook and does cook. He went to culinary school and worked as a chef for many years. He left the profession a couple of years ago, so he likes to cook at home. I know I am lucky--it is one less thing I have to worry about during my work day. But I actually enjoy cooking, and I hate doing dishes. And our deal is whomever cooks does not do the dishes. This has never worked in my favor, because when I did cook it was because he wasn't home, so I did the dishes any how.

So, tonight I really wanted to get out of the house, get away from our four walls and check out the world away from our neighborhood, the Y and any sports event featuring 8-10 year old girls. BUT the hubs decided he could make better Mexican, and he made really good enchiladas. Really good. But we didn't get out of the house AND I had to do the dishes. Very depressing. The hubs needs to get this mama out of the house before I lose my mind. I think he got the message, though.

On to what takes my mind away from these four wall--BOOKS.

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“... technically, just like with the rings of a tree or Carbon-14, it had to be possible to measure the passage of time by the melting of vanilla ice cream.”

This week I finished a book I've been wanting to read for awhile. I was disappointed, and I wasn't. The characters are awful people, but the book sets up a great moral dilemma. And it raised some interesting questions in my mind about what is really going on. I can't discuss my ideas without giving the book away, but when you finish let me know and I will let YOU know my weird, wacky thoughts.

When I started this book I could not put it down. You know it’s building to something big, and I read and read, wondering when it’s going to get there. And slowly but surely it did, but only after I realized all the characters are horrid and I didn't want anyone to be the good guy. It's a book without heroes.

 The story takes place in Holland and narrated by Paul, a man with an unknown illness, or syndrome, which makes him prone to fits of temper and makes him unemployable. The story centers around he and his wife Claire and their dinner with his brother, Serge, a famous politician that is on the verge of becoming the Dutch Prime Minister, and Serge’s wife Babette.

We learn quickly that Paul does not like, actually really resents, his brother. He hates everything about him, to his seemingly limited intelligence to his summer house in France. In fact, it seems that Paul really pretty much dislikes everyone except his wife, his son, and Serge’s wife, Babette (he’s torn here, because sometimes Babette doesn’t like Serge, so that’s when he likes her).

The dinner is in a very high end, exclusive restaurant at which Serge has an ‘in’, allowing him to get great service and an instant good table without a reservation. The story is divided into courses, and by the main course I was ready for dinner to be OVER! Slowly, though, we are building to the point of the dinner—the kids.

The three boys—one for Paul and Claire, two for Serge and Babette—have gotten into trouble. Serious, psychopathic trouble. And it is the way that everyone reacts that makes you wonder about them. And I guess that is why I kept reading the story. I can't really say more without blowing the story.

I would recommend this book, but I would add a caveat—it’s a book worth reading, but you’re not going to love it. It will start conversations, and I would add that I want you to read it so that I have someone to talk to about this book. I have some strange theories, and I need someone to discuss them with someone!!!