Not A Single Minute To Spare

I had an awful time today.  Not a single minute to spare.  Tried to iron but didn't get very far.  Tried to wash too today and only got the diapers finished.  Goodness but cooking + cleaning + minding the kids is some job.  I wouldn't like to do it all the time.  - Annette, January 1943

 

Sometimes, the daily chores of life just pile up.  We feel like we can't get ahead.  Annette had several entries like this during the first week of January.  She was feeling exhausted and overwhelmed - and she was nursing a sore thumb and twisted ankle.  Normally, she had a servant helping with the cooking and cleaning, but when the servants didn't show up, she was left on her own, having to wash and iron every day, plus cook all the meals and take care of 2 babies.

Sometimes, when we are stressed, our bodies struggle to keep up.  It can be hard to stay on top of things when we are fighting an illness or trying to heal.  In Annette's case, she had more going on than just a bum foot.  More to come in the next post... 

Losing My Grip On My Wits

I think I'm losing my grip on my wits.  This morning I broke another thermometer.  Disgusted with myself - 2 in 2 days.  This is wearing us out.  Mustard packs, temps, fixing food and etc is sure getting me down.  - Annette, December 1943

 

Annette spent most of December 1943 worrying about her second-born son, Deedee (real name Tom - my dad).  Deedee was just over 1 year old and had just been diagnosed with malignant malaria.  He was on a complicated treatment plan, including "acetalarsyn" (probably for malnutrition/anemia), atebrine and quinine (anti-malarial drugs), and "mustard packs" (mustard powder spread under bandages to stimulate healing). 

(Spoiler alert - my dad survived.  Since malaria stays in your body forever, he would continue to have flare-ups throughout his life.  He was also known to enjoy gin and tonics, always using tonic water with quinine, which he probably considered preventative treatment for those malarial episodes.  Totally my dad's sense of humor.)

Annette was worried sick.  Breaking one thermometer would be upsetting enough, but when she broke the second one, she was 'disgusted' with herself and felt like she was losing her mind.  A simple, easily forgivable accident triggered such strong words! 

Just a few hours ago, while decorating my tiny Christmas tree, I broke one of my favorite childhood ornaments.  My internal dialogue kicked in - "Oh come on!  You can't even decorate a tree properly!  How pathetic!"  Why are we so hard on ourselves?  We are all doing the best we can in this world - navigating obligations, expectations, and sometimes, malaria - and yet we still speak to ourselves more harshly than we would ever speak to others.  How do we break the cycle?   

Just for fun, here is a picture of Annette and my dad, Tom.  He was a bit younger here, but it's still sweet.  

And December Is Just Starting

I'm exhausted.  And December is just starting.  Thanksgiving was nice.  Sold Daddy's house.  He loved that house.  We worked so hard to keep him there.  I get so sad when I think about him.  I should be more gentle with myself, but I am so tired of being so emotional.  I'm just tired all the time.  - Miranda, November 2008

 

For me, the November-December transition can feel like a blur, rolling from a major holiday to a major month of performances.  A few years ago, I started intentionally keeping Thanksgiving weekend clear on my calendar.  No gigs or teaching obligations - just one last quiet moment before the December craziness begins.  Now, the Christmas trees are going up, and I'm happily dusting off Sleigh Ride and The Nutcracker for another season of holiday concerts, instead of feeling like Scrooge.  

This was not always the case.  2008 was a challenging year for me, all around - I remember being exhausted all the time.  Thanksgiving happened, and before I knew it, I was practically living in my car with my clarinet, concert clothes, and a Santa hat.  Through it all, I was grieving the loss of my Dad.  No time to sit around, though!  I had to get out there and earn that money!  I can even see it in my diary entries - lots of short sentences and repeated phrases.  Variations on 'just so tired' were particularly prevalent.  On top of that, we sold my Dad's house around that time.  Talk about emotional!  I spent a lot of time trying to process my grief and deal with it logically.  Sometimes, I ignored it all together.  Any guesses on how that turned out?? 

We don't always have the luxury of clearing our schedule to deal with our emotions.  As we head into the holiday season, maybe we can all steal a few moments for ourselves.  In this time of giving, maybe we can give ourselves a break - and be a little more gentle.