Yesterday I attempted my first somersault in 20+ years. A simple forward flip that resulted in rapid displacement of my equilibrium and crashing back on to my back in dizziness. I felt like I had just gotten off of a rollercoaster. It appears my sense of balance in the middle ear has become highly sensitive since my last somersault.
In the past ten months I’ve also been working to perfect my sense of balance in being a mother, wife, and writer. Just how far can I let the dishes pile up in the sink so I can get a few more minutes of writing time while my daughter naps? Should I join my hubby on the couch to watch a movie or write in my office after our daughter has gone down for the night? Do I let my daughter play in her pack ‘n play for a few more minutes so I can finish writing my thoughts?
Fortunately my husband is incredibly supportive and understanding; playing with our daughter when he is home so I can write, not minding a messy kitchen, encouraging me to write in my office, etc. But I don’t want to look back several years from now and wish I had more moments with my daughter and husband. Just a few days ago our daughter turned 10 months old and I’m realizing how fast each day goes by with her. She is growing up and changing daily, and I don’t want to miss a single giggle, a shared moment playing peekaboo, or a cuddle into my shoulder.
Yet writing keeps me sane when I’ve spent two hours trying to get my little one down for a nap or after an entire day of fussy spells during a teething event. All of my ideas for books and articles build up inside of me. I itch to write. I need to write. It’s more than therapeutic, it’s an essence to my life.
So I just take each day as it comes, learning how to keep my equilibrium in check so that I can accomplish the goals of the day as a mother, wife, and writer. For now, at least, I’ll avoid the somersaults and just stick to balancing the three different scales of my life.
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