“Who let me Adult? I can’t Adult”

Let's just be honest, this whole adult thing, I’m no good at it.

I found out today I had several deadlines I forgot about, and I just went; ‘Meh.’ Not the panic I would normally get.

This is about real life, and mostly self pity. It all started with the fact that I realized how much I still have to do for my Montessori Exam  - especially in combination with all the other stuff I have lined up for these couple of months. It was Murphy’s law time. The man ripped his patellar tendon, the tendon that keeps your knee in place. An operation later and there's no bending his leg for 2 months. That means no driving the car or biking or walking around. [In normal woman/mom language: no picking up kids, grocery, taking out old paper, glass etc.] It hit me. In the face, with a chair, hard, Molotov cocktail on it, making me step on lego, and so on.

This all happened during our holiday, when I was supposed to take some extra time for my study. Ok yes, it’s awful for him too, but let’s be honest. What about me!?  This makes my feeling of responsibility work overtime and that’s when my sad feeling of timing comes into play. Or abstinence of timing perhaps. I enjoy changes, I’m super flexible, I like spontaneous activities, love adventure, keeping an open mind and open agenda. Well! Not.Going. To. Happen.. Can you hear me crying?

They don't seem to  mind. Can you hear their evil laughter?

They don't seem to  mind. Can you hear their evil laughter?

If you're fed up with my self pity, don't read on..

Before this happened, we had planned to redesign our garden. We city-living-Dutchies normally have gardens we call ‘stamp gardens’. Because, guess what, they’re the size of a stamp. But I love green around me and really did not grow up in the city, so we looked untill we found a house with a [for Dutch city norm] big garden. But the people who lived here before us made it the kind of garden you would consider the Bundy’s to have. At one time it had some Roman styled sculptures. Our garden has full-on sun [when there is a sun out in the Netherlands] and NO shade. And grass in front of the door, so when we stepped out, we would step in to a muddy puddle.  Thankfully everything is changing, we've aleady got rid of the mud. Next I was planning on building a pergola. With help from the man. You see the problem. Now I have to figure out something else. And this weekend I pruned our tree [we planted it when we moved in] and I have a hard time moving my arms now.  Boo bloody hoo.

Ugh I just remembered how much I love my man. And I can’t wait for him to get better, I will try to show my appreciation even more now.

The kids, well, no pity on dad and no respect for my lack of washing-clothes-enthusiasm.

The kids, well, no pity on dad and no respect for my lack of washing-clothes-enthusiasm.

Our barren land.

Our barren land.

The truth is, all this makes me feel very small. I'm no good as a nurse, and, as said, I have a bad feeling of timing. I get lost in my own thoughts, and at this point my head just seems te be overflowing, and I know there are many other people around coping with much more and doing it so much better. Trying to keep up with everything that should be done feels like cleaning the house while the kids are playing; useless, the next piece of cookie is just lying under the carpet.

Do you get that feeling of being inadequate, not having the skills you need at a certain moment of live?

I have so much respect for women and men who handle a household by themselves, I always have, but I realize now, that it’s not only taking care of the kids that you do alone. It must be very hard at times. I guess I should just feel lucky I have the perfect man who is willing to take the kids so I can study [if he could], or spend time doing spontaneous stuff, I have regular holidays, and we have a garden that can only get better.

But I need wine and I need to whine. That's me.

So here’s what I dream about, what keeps me going; In July, I will have finished my studies [successfully, all the professors adored me], the husband is skipping around like a young schoolgirl, we finished a perfect school musical and the kids are doing great. And, yes, finally my, I mean, our  garden is done. No unrealistic expectations.  It will look like this:

Or something very close to that.