Suicide Soda- I Know Better, But I Keep Adding Flavors

This post is not actually about suicide or soda, but it is about what a suicide soda represents to me. For those who don't know, suicide soda is when you mix every flavor available into one cup, a cup from which you intend to actually drink.  When I was a kid, I thought this was hilarious! What could taste better than caffeine free Dr. Pepper with some orange, grape, lemon lime, and root beer thrown in?  Mmmm.  Yummilisciousness!

Yep, that's what I thought back then. Life was so simple.  And there were no immediate consequences for my choice to mix beverages, or even for my choice to drink carbonated sugar water. Sigh. Those were the days.

But those days are over.

And now onto what this post is really about.  A few days ago, I literally spent 4 hours inputting responsibilities into my google calendar.

 Literally.

4 hours.

By the time I was done, I wanted to strangle my husband and every fluffy bunny in the world. This was no fault of my husband or the bunnies, but rather an unfortunate truth for him and them that I just didn't feel like I had time left for anything or anyone, no matter how cute or adorable. I had the calendaring crankies.  Poor Juddy. Poor bunnies.

And I did it to myself. I surely did.  I just kept on adding things to the mix, until I had what some would call a recipe for disaster.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?  AM I INSANE?  WHEN AM I GOING TO SLEEP?

These, and other thoughts, raced through my head as I made entry after entry.

When I was a new mother, I dreamed of the day I would send my last child off to first grade, and sit home with NOTHING to do, watching TV, reading books, or whatever else I wanted.  Freedom would be mine and it would taste sweet like the nectar of the gods.

And, you know what?  If I wanted that freedom, I could have it.  Nobody makes me drive to Orem each week to teach piano lessons. Nobody forces me to clean my mom's house. Nobody made me agree to be PTA President( although some people have asked how I was coerced).  And nobody forces me to go to the temple, or to the gym, or visiting teaching, or anywhere else.  Nobody made me agree to drive my boys to early morning seminary either.

As my kids would say, "Aw Picklenuggets!"  Sometime between new motherhood and 18 years later, I guess I grew up a little bit.  I found out I don't really want to sit around all day with nothing to do.  And I sure as heck don't want to stay home so I can clean and shop all day. That's just not for me.

I like the things I've chosen to do. I don't love that my kids go to 4 different schools, but it's a choice we made and I own it.  I don't love driving all over for voice lessons, gymnastics, band, dance class, soccer, and other appointments, but I love the little people ( and some big people now) that I'm driving around and I love watching them develop their talents. I hate that my son has been diagnosed with eosinophilic esophagitis, but I would give up every free minute of my day for appointments, tests, and procedures for as long as it takes to find out what's causing it and make it better.

I do these things because I love the people I serve.  I LOVE my 5 church callings (They are really pretty easy).  I love the ladies I visit teach.  I love God.  I love my kids and I love other people's kids.  So, yes, just looking at my calendar can sometimes cause intestinal problems, and it's a bit of a juggling game, but I hope I can do it with grace, kindness, and humor.  I'm excited for this crazy year. I'm excited to help my firstborn apply for college, turn in mission papers, and to drive him all over the place for Madrigal performances.  I'm excited for all of it- the crazy, the hard, and the happy.  Maybe I should know better. Maybe I should have stopped adding flavors to the mix.  I did tell Clara NOOOOOO  the other day when she asked to join Girl Scouts- cause my cup is just plain full right now.  But, I love that full cup of crazy mixed up deliciousness.

I even love taking these two to the orthodontist