Hanging Up the Cape

Last Thursday's post resulted in a number of lovely comments, emails and messages regarding my regret over my current situation.  I have hit a new level of exhaustion despite trying to get more sleep, so have not had a chance to respond.  Given that, here is my reply:

thank you.

Thank you for understanding whether or not you agree.  Thank you for sending hugs and cheery messages.  Thank you for not telling me to buck up.  Just…thank you.  I'm guessing you knew I really, really needed those kind thoughts.

I also I owe super-sized thank you to one extremely generous person.  One in particular, I'll call Q.,  very cleverly wrote to me off-line and left me a very open invitation to let loose and say what I really thought. I think it was quite obvious that I was sugar-coating things a tad in the blog post (oh, yes, that was the sweet version) and Q. gave me the opening I needed.

Let loose I did.  I threw in the disclaimer, of course, that I know the world is still revolving, that other people deal with stuff worse than this every day, but how on God's green earth did this collusion of events make sense?  I wrote, wrote and wrote some more, rambling thoughts that would make reading Faulkner in pre-AP English seem like a walk in the park.   I finally finished in a dizzy swirl, clicked send and looked up to see Peter staring at me, wondering what on earth I had just done.

I showed him.  He read it, looked up and said, 

"Good."

An hour later, I received a response that brought tears to my eyes.  My fears were laid out in bullet-points and appropriately targeted.  All of my shortcomings of late, all of my failings were torn away from me.  I expected, perhaps, reproach and instead was given reprieve.  The lines that left me stunned?

 

We expected even the physical healing to take time, more time than it's been. We expected you to have to hang up your Superwoman cape for a year or more. We don't know why you expect so much more of yourself than any human could do.

 

You see I don't see myself that way.  If anything, I felt I could never measure up to expectations that anyone else could meet in a heartbeat.  I won't list out my shortcomings, but in no way did I think I had earned a reprieve since I was barely getting the minimum accomplished.  Even when I thought I 'did it all', my all wasn't half of what it could be.  

It stunned me to think that I might not only be doing something right, but perhaps COULD give myself a bit of a break.  Perhaps I was being too hard on myself…I shared the note with Peter, he agreed wholeheartedly and I realized that maybe if I let go of my pre-conceived notions of what I should be doing, life might be much easier.

Four days later, I had the opportunity.  Peter had 'given' me the weekend off, but then became extremely ill.  I was supposed to have Sunday to myself, to work on whatever household organizing task I felt needed attention.  One of my biggest stressors has been my lack of motivation to finally finish unpacking and really getting settled.  Finally, I felt ready, but ended up spending the day running errands.  

Upon arriving home, I realized I would get nothing accomplished. I had volunteered to make cupcakes for Kelsey's class for their Valentine's Day party.  I had all the ingredients, but my time would no longer be my own.  I knew I could blow it off, go get the Safeway special cupcakes and regain my 'organizing' time.  I thought about it and then knew that I was going to bake the cupcakes from scratch, frost them and have Kelsey decorate them…and at the same time I was finally hanging up the cape.

You see, the cupcakes were fun and frivolous.  Work, yes, but fun work.  At first, I felt since I hadn't done my 'real work', I shouldn't waste time on cupcakes.  I could save time by getting them at the bakery, work on the house and no one would really care.   Then I realized that maybe that's the attitude that needed changing.  Maybe it wouldn't matter if the house wasn't perfect for yet another day.  Having fun baking with Kelsey and pouring my heart into an activity for her was a far better use of my time.  

We made the cupcakes and two batches of frosting and many sprinkles later, they were finished.  They had been appropriately tested and I was reassured that they would be 'perfect' for the party.  I still fretted a bit, especially when dropping them off.  As if someone knew, two packages of prepared cupcakes sat on the front desk in the school office.  They taunted me with their perfect domes of frosting and moist, spongy texture.  I looked at my homemade, organic-ingrediented, sugary but not overwhelmingly so creations and wondered if I had made a terrible mistake.

Three hours later, I received an email.

Dear Mrs. Dinoia,

Thank you so much for the cupcakes, the children LOVED them.

Sincerely,

Ms. L-F

Where's that hook and when's the next party?