Thank you

by Katrina on April 20, 2010

Exactly one year ago today, I went home sick from work and I never went back. I hadn’t planned to leave my job, but my body refused to obey orders.

For years, I’d felt like a circus performer spinning plates on sticks. As my family grew, and my responsibilities at work grew, more plates went up in the air. One plate for my daughter. One for my son. One for my stepdaughter. One for my husband. One for my team at work. One for each project and one for each client. One for Ruby’s school. One for Jake’s preschool. By the time I realized there were too many plates, I was trapped. If I stopped, they’d all come crashing down.

And then I did stop. And a miracle happened.

Nothing crashed.

My clients didn’t cancel their accounts. My company didn’t shut down. My kids did not run in the street like wild unloved animals with dirty hair. My husband, who was also chronically overworked, did not leave me or collapse in a heap or develop a drinking problem. In fact, he rose to the occasion. He kept his own plates in the air and somehow added a few of mine. Family in Seattle and New York and Detroit, old friends and new friends, jumped in and started spinning plates. The show went on.

Every mother I know has the same fear. Every one of us is haunted, at one time or another, by the burden we carry and believe we carry alone. We are doing so much. Many of us are doing more than our share. If we had to stop, it seems like the world would stop. We’re so focused on our purpose, so distracted by our busyness, that sometimes we can’t see the people around us, the ones who love us and want to help. This last year has taught me that there are a lot of people around who want to help. I would like to thank them now.

Thank you, first and foremost, to Brian for being everything and more. For continuing to work so we could keep the lights on and not forgetting to wash Ruby’s hair or pay Jake’s preschool and never once making me feel like I screwed up. I didn’t deserve you when I got you. I still can’t believe my luck.

Thank you, Linda, for flying out from New Jersey, taking time off of your own over-busy schedule to cook and clean and lavish attention on the kids when I couldn’t.

Thank you, Randall, for sitting with me in the darkest places I’ve ever been so I didn’t have to go there alone.

Thank you, Thania and Jose, for being our extended family when we didn’t have any around, for picking up the kids on more than one Sunday afternoon so Brian and I could both rest.

Thank you, Dinora, for the roses and the delicious homemade pupusas and empanadas which fed us for weeks.

Thank you, Angel, for the surprise gift packages left at the door, for running out to get cold medicine when we were all sick, for never holding it against me when I made plans with you and then canceled because I couldn’t stand to leave the house.

Thank you, Kat, for encouraging me to “swoon” like they did in the Victorian novels, and for reminding me of what I had.

Thank you to my sister, Holly, for the offers to fly out and help even though you have your hands full with four kids of your own, and for the countless pep talks while I sobbed on the phone in the parking lot waiting for Ruby to come out of Spanish class.

Thank you to the other Holly for totally getting it.

Thank you, Mom for being the person I could call at any time of night no matter how late, and thank you, Dad and Fran, for thinking everything I do is brilliant and there are no mistakes.

Thank you, Doris and Charlie, for offering to fly out from Detroit and take the kids back with you and them fly them back home, too.

Thank you, David, for calling once a week and telling me I could call back or not, and I could be in a good mood or not, and I could talk or just listen and it was all fine with you.

Thank you, Kristy, for the walk around the lake and telling me I had nothing to feel bad about. That really sunk in.

Thank you to all four of my grandparents who are a constant reminder of what is important.

Thank you, Deborah, Sandy, Dawn and Sherri, Maria M., Liz, Cathy, Marjorie, Gabby, and all those moms and dads on the playground for the words of wisdom and encouragement.

Thank you to my former coworkers—you know who you are—who reached out with cards and emails and phone calls.

Thank you, Andy, Bruce, Toby, Barry, Chana, Connie, Nancy, and everyone else in my writing group for shining your light.

Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert, Pema Chodron, and Jon Kabat-Zinn.

Thank you, Joan Blades and MomsRising for recognizing what a raw deal we’re getting and trying to do something about it.

Thank you to everyone who’s written since I started the blog to share your own adventures of trying to make a living while raising a family without losing your soul in the process. I know I’m in good company.

I’m doing much better now.

***

Post script: Ugh! I was afraid I’d leave someone out. Kim M., the dinners together, the commiseration has been an important part of this year. Thank you, too. Who else did I leave out?

{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }

Sonya

I love this post! Isn’t it wonderful to tally up the supporting cast and recognize just how many people have our backs? I’ve been similarly lucky (TY Kat!) and will take a deep breath and scroll through my thank yous next time the To Do list feels overwhelming.

Reply

Gabby

It’s an honor to be your friend.

Reply

Vinicio

This post made me smile. A nice way to start the day. I’m so happy to hear that you’re doing well. Thank you for the perspective you bring to our lives!

Reply

Kat

I know exactly how it feels to worry that if I stop running, all that I know and love will crumble around me. Amazing to remember the “net” in our network of family, friend and work connections – they really are there to support us always and catch us if we fall or just need to rest.

As for Victorian swooning, like Elizabeth Barrett Browning, you seem to be pretty productive in your state of repose!

Reply

Katrina

Yeah, I never got very good at the swooning, did I? I’m going to try to work on that…

Reply

Deborah

Thanks for being part of my team too.

Reply

Angel H

I’ve been thinking about just this situation for a while….how we have to be pushed too far before we let go and fall…how the net is there already waiting to catch us, to bounce us back up again…, but how we don’t believe that is is there and keep struggling forward. I wish we would all tip back a little bit now and again to feel the quick embrace of the friends and family that are always there instead of waiting until the big-scary free-fall.

I can’t believe that it has been a year- look at all you have done! I can only imagine what a year from now will hold.

You are so very welcome. Like Gabby, I feel it’s honor to be your friend and like Deborah I’m glad your on my team too.

To the future…..

Reply

Mom2gcnj

I really and truly do not want to be a parade drencher, especially since I love your blog and think you are so on point in so many ways. But I really have to say there are many many women/parents/families in this country that do not have a safety net – social or economic – at least not one strong enough to withstand a catastrophe. For some of us the straw that breaks us may be something as small as a broken down car or a case of the flu or a struggling child who requires us to make lots of business hours visits to school. Life happens and sometimes it takes us down and there is not really anything or anyone strong enough to catch us.

I think you get this Katrina, but I also think it bears stating – there is a lot more to the story of families living under pressure than moms cracking. There is also, poverty, homelessness, hunger, child abuse, domestic violence, children going astray because parents working long hours can’t stop them…..well of course the list goes on.

I am genuinely glad Katrina that you had the resources ready to help you pick up the pieces when things fell apart. I’m glad you could stop to take care of yourself without the humiliation of having to justify your need to a social service bureaucrat. I just want to very gently say that solving the problems of working families can not stop at those headed my middle class educated parents. I know that is not part of your experience, but it is part of the story.

Reply

Katrina

Thanks for making a very important point, Mom2gcnj. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should address this in the original post but I didn’t.

Yes, to your point, I was LUCKY to have so many people around to help. It just took me awhile to realize they were there. The bigger point I wanted to make was how we tend to isolate ourselves when we feel overwhelmed and this is certainly something I did. But plenty of women struggle with the same issues I did and don’t have half the resources.

As an aside, I had a small taste of the “humiliation” of dealing with bureaucrats after I stopped working and went on disability, but nothing like what someone would have to deal with if they had to go on welfare. I have a mom friend who is going through bankruptcy right now. Not fun. Glad you pointed this out.

Reply

Mom2gcnj

Thanks for not banishing me :0)

Ah yes – isolation – know it well. I think it is a natural defense mechanism when we feel under attack. Hunker down. Survive day to day – crisis to crisis. Don’t stop, and for heaven’s sake don’t admit you’re struggling to make it in the “land of opportunity”. Fear and isolation – they can suck the life out of you. It is an awful way to live. We in this country seem to see fear as a motivator. I suppose it can be – but man the costs are high.

Thanks for sharing your story and wonderful insights. They really speak to me.

Reply

silvershadowsofmist

hi katrina,
have been enjoying all your posts thoroughly and feel happy for you.
the realization that home is where women primarily belong and juggling plates u could but only as many as one can handle.family,friends n loved ones need us most,so unless necessity calls lets just give them the best of ourselves.
relax and bathe in the warmth of Gods blessings !!!!!

Reply

Kristy LaFollette

Oh Katrina. The thank-yous never end. That’s why we are good friends. : ) Love you.

Reply

StacyK

Soon after our son was born, I started asking my “mom friends” if any of them knew (following from the old “it takes a village…” saying) where our village was.

Katrina, you’ve built a good one. I’m still working on it.

Reply

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: