Hi, my name is Bonkers...

and yes, I understand that ME time is just crazy talk


Just the other day, in a fit of anger, I yelled at someone, "Get a life!"  I was angry for whatever reason (whole other story there), and it just came out.  It really didn't fit the scenario, and I did seem, at least for the better part, like a total moron.

However, I have been wondering today if those words were somehow prophetic... especially considering the way I feel this week.  Now, before I let loose on my rant, let me just say: 

1. I love my Big C
2. I love being home with my children.
3. I love homeschooling my children.
4. I love doing all the things I do for my family (cooking, cleaning, laundry, the other mundane tasks that go unnoticed until they somehow fail to be accomplished--and yes, I am the magic fairy that makes everyone's dirty underwear clean again; I'm also repsonsible for those same items "magically" appearing in their neatly organized areas.)
5. I do count my blessings and appreciate the amazing things that have been bestowed upon this family.

More and more often I have been feeling, well... not needed, not wanted, and for certain, not missed for the person I am... obviously, I will be missed when breakfast isn't made, chocolate sippy cups aren't sitting on the table beside the morning cuddle area, underwear drawers run dry, and dirt is on the floor.  Yes, I know I will be missed then.  However, will I be missed for much more than that?

My daily talks are shared with a six-year-old and a just turned five-year-old.  Not much in the way of wisdom as we mostly share Bible songs, verses, and facts used in daily learning routines.  I have no "in real life" adult friends as we've just moved to a new state.  I have no "come get the kids, I'm desperately needing a moment, or five" babysitter, as we've just moved to the area.  While in most cases, Big C is so busy with whatever his next task is that in-depth conversations are reserved for discussing problems and all else gets the generic, "Yeah, I know what you mean." if it gets anything at all.

The only regular time I get is while I'm running.  Perhaps that's just one of the reasons I'm so addicted.  Even when Big C and the kidlets accompany me (he runs an average 2 - 3 minute faster pace than I run, and the kidlets are on their go kart keeping up with the Big C), it's still "my" time.  I'm hanging back at my (9:45-10 minute mile pace) enjoying the solitude.

However, that's not enough.  I don't come home feeling rejuvenated and ready to tackle the next big mess, the dirty footprints from our grand entrance, the pile of laundry sitting on my bed (that's so it doesn't get pushed aside for another day), the showers and baths followed by the near thirty-minute bed time routine... every... single... night.  No, I don't feel rejuvenated at all because all those things still need doing.  It's another mad rush... like the entire day hasn't felt rushed already.  And when I finally get to the shower  myself, well, then it's time for the mistress to have a good time and before I know it... I'm konked out asleep never having taken that moment I needed only to be woken by the new day begging for it all to be done all over again.

I can't quite decide how to get the necessary "me" time I need.  And quite frankly, I'm not a bubble bath type of gal, so heck NO, that won't solve my problem. 

What do you do when you need "me" time?  Or is the entire notion of "me" time just fictional?