.... with caffeine, excitement, adrenaline, and nerves, that is. (and what were you thinking?!) Why, you may ask? Because I finally got the permit approval today, giving me permission to get in over my head, work like a dog, and make a fool of myself ... or have a smashing success, however it works out.
It's a race. A 3k race. In my local park. Put on by me, and any sponsors I can drag in, to help launch my new website for moms. And to benefit a mom-kid-focused local charity. I have so much to do it's not funny, first in getting the site properly up and running (I'll be begging for help here in a week or so, in terms of posting to the boards, so be forewarned!). Not to mention planning a race, finding sponsors and prizes and vendors and marshalls and a timing company and and and ... my brain can't seem to slow down. I've been alternating between frantic activity and exhaustion, which is partly why I crashed so hard last night. I'd been getting depressed that the parks dept had promised me an answer, and then didn't come through with it for 10 days, while media deadlines were drifting by, and things like that.
As my sister pointed out today, despite my complaints, I love this kind of thing. Really. Lots to do, organizing galore, furious activity, and watching things slowly come together. The part I'm not good at, but will have to figure out, is how to ask for help. I've done better than normal at getting names and calling around for help, but in terms of asking literally for involvement ... that's where I falter. This thing, if it's to come off, is bigger than me. It's not as insane as my wedding (the craziest thing I ever planned, much more complicated than any trade show I organized back in the day, and they were bad ...) but it's still much larger than I can truly do myself.
If I had a hamster wheel illustration, I'd put it at the top, but I don't. How to keep moving, at a good pace, without driving everyone around me stark raving nuts? I've never been good at that. I always want people around me to just jump into my excited mode and work alongside, and it never works that way. Their excitement doesn't match mine, of course. Their passion.
I'm certainly glad to have found a piece of mine, though I live in fear of it petering out. What if this is just a whim that will fade? I don't know exactly what's driving it, although I've had suspicions. I do love putting people together, and finding fellowship. I love stories. I know I'm not the only mother who's struggled with her own identity since having kids. I'm tired of sites and blogs that talk endlessly and cheerily about how wonderful their kids/husbands/lives are. Don't get me wrong (or take offense if you happen to have one of those!) but it's not where I'm at I guess. I'm focused on the identity-ripping part of motherhood, and the issues it raises. Just another step from the identity-mucking-about that is marriage, and I didn't feel compelled to have a place for virtual strangers to talk about that. Somehow this is my thing.
I've felt passionately about mothers getting regular time alone since having my first. It's become my soapbox and I hardly ever find a mom who doesn't need it, or who doesn't struggle with guilt for wanting it. I'm sure they're out there, but I don't seem to run into them. I see moms in the park who have that look in their eyes. Not just the tired-exhausted-train-wreck look, along with the baggy sweats and black rims around their eyes. The I'm-barely-holding-in-my-terror-at-this-whole-thing and I-think-I've-lost-myself-in-the-shuffle look. I'm not imagining it. We somehow feel the need to hold it all together even for other moms, and that's just plain crazy. Sure we commiserate about baby blues and sleepless nights, saggy boobs and nigh-dead-romance, but we don't seem to talk about what's really going on in our heads during the crazy ride of motherhood.
That's a conversation I'm always interested in.