Why can’t I get used to my life?

I pace a LOT these days.

I thought that by the time Dee had hit 20 mos, I’d have this whole momming thing in the bag and be moving on to new knotches in my belt. But instead, I still have this strange phantom anxiety and guilt about my life and the way I lead it. WTF is up with that, blog readers? TWENTY MONTHS!? Where’s my routine?! If I’m working, I feel like I’m neglecting my daughter. If I’m playing with my daughter, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop on work. Where’s this so called work/life balance and where do I buy some?

Here’s the thing. As you may know, I have two jobs which I am very passionate about (three if we’re counting motherhood, which is OF COURSE a full time job, but I try not to think of it that way whenever possible.) So most of the time, I’m running on eight kinds of fumes at once to make it all happen in a timely fashion {for the record I do not always succeed at that, trust me.}

I’ve been living the freelance writer’s life for over two years now, and I’m still constantly freaked out that there’s something I should be doing, or someone I should be getting back to. I end up working at midnight because I CAN, and also because it’s hard to resist Delilah when she makes it clear she’s had enough of me working. My Mom, who got us through these past nine months of craziness isn’t going to be able to devote as much of her time to Dee (and send good thoughts out for her overworked kick-ass Grandma shoulder) so I’m rocking full on double duty, trying to time conference calls against snacks, and utilize Scott’s lunch hour for meetings.

It’s hard. There’s no road map for this crazy “make-it-happen-or-else” lifestyle. But it’s ours. And if switching off duty with Scott as I rush out the door to a pitch is how we’re going to make this thing happen, than so be it, right?

But when the ef am I supposed to see my husband? Lately it’s like we’re slapping high fives as we come and go, hustling to make this self-employed life work, hoping for a chance to just cuddle in bed without a smart device present at night.

It’s unprecedented, family life in the digital age. It’s changing what qualifies a closed door, breaking down barriers, and yet – it’s keeping us more connected to people we’ve never met some days the the loved ones in our own home. And that’s a scary thought. For me. Because I can get lost online faster than my husband can get lost under the hood of a car. I’ve got to calm the fuck down, find this elusive balance, and get on with my bad self, because other than all the sedatives and lingering psychiatric visits, I’m mostly kinda finally for once feeling good about the place things are headed. Suggestions welcome.

Also? I heard this song in the car today I and I remembered how much I liked it. Rod Stewart and me share the same go-to coffee shop. But don’t worry Rod…your secret is safe with me.