[The following is an excerpt from The Life is Too Short Collection by Connie Sokol, see purchase links below.]
“Do you ever feel that, as a mother, you are an Enduremeister? Often I see mothers believe that we are the only ones who can get something done, and because of previous experience supporting that fact, we continue in this belief.
A while back I had a pivotal experience. A particular Monday and Tuesday were to be, in all ways, nightmares. Monday morning I had a photo shoot in a distant city, then a segment on a major news show. On Tuesday, I was guesting on a TV show then a radio show, and after that, hosting my own show for an hour.
Yes, just thinking about it gave me hives.
To add to the adventure, I needed my hair done. Being a tomboy of sorts, I put off this little time-waster as long as possible. But in trying to confirm my appointment, the stylist could not be reached. For three weeks. In desperation I called a new gal at the same salon and arranged to do hair at 7:00 A.M. on the nightmare Monday morning.
The choreography that went into this Herculean schedule change I cannot describe. Between my husband rearranging his schedule, coaching children to get ready while I was gone so that I could return, have breakfast together, get them on the bus, and ready my things for this photo shoot, it would truly boggle the mind.
I rose early at 6:30 A.M. on the fateful morning, after the night that my baby woke up EVERY HOUR.
Finally, at 5:00 A.M. I realized she had stuck pieces of paper and bits of crayon up her nose some time during the previous day. In the dawn’s early light, I sat with tweezers and her head between my feet to pull out the contraband. At 6:45 A.M., with nary an hour of sleep, I drove in the chilly weather to get my hair done.
The stylist didn’t show.
I sat waiting, with great hope and optimism and many calls, but nothing. In fact, even days later, nothing. I am inclined at this point to share the name of the salon but will refrain.
This shot the whole plan. My bangs, practically down to my nose, were in serious need of cutting or I would have to curl them into the “wall of bangs.” By the time I got the kids off to school and the young ones in the bath, I had fifteen minutes to do my hair and makeup, then load up to be in time for the photo shoot.
Now, the whole point of my sob story is this: I still thought I could do it. Even when I looked at the time and clearly saw that it would be ridiculous to even attempt it, I still thought, “I can do it. I can do my makeup on the freeway as I drive. I can put rollers in my hair and drive with them in. I can drive in my pajamas and dress at the studio.”
Yes, insanity had set in.
At that point I literally burst into tears and went to my only place of solace—the bathroom. After I sat for a few minutes and collected myself, I realized the following: (a) hair is annoying; (b) this was not essential; and (c) people may mock me on the news for the wall of bangs, but what does it matter?
I came out a different woman. I called the photo shoot guy, explained the hair trauma, and we rescheduled. It was that simple. Instead of flying around, stressing everyone out, with one simple phone call we were back to normal. I spent the morning happily with my children until it was time to go. And with the aid of an entire can of spray, the hair ended up being doable.
Sometimes I think we mothers are so used to enduring, of adding one more thing and feeling the responsibility to make it work, that we don’t STOP and ask, is there a simpler way? When we look at all that could be done, why not remember: (a) WE don’t have to do it all, and (b) it doesn’t all have to be done.
Next time you or I encounter such chaos, we can ask ourselves if there is a simpler way. And maybe we’ll find we can do more than endure.”
[The Life is Too Short Collection: Kitchen table wisdom for women, wives, and mothers for only $4.99 kindle or $12.03 print.]
