Sunday, August 20, 2017

Multitasker/Dental Disaster

I sat in the dentist chair, after an overnight of work, for an appointment I didn't imagine would be good. After all, life's adventures had made me cancel, or never even schedule, a year's worth of visits, and an upside down body clock had unhinged any personal care routine I had ever managed to have.

And there, in the dentist chair, it was all that I imagined and more--the disappearance of the hygienist mid-cleaning, notes being scribbled, whispers behind my head, some pain, and far more than the requisite amount of rinsing. Oh, and firm words and an appointment to come back "sooner than later" to fix a series of problems.

I survived, and have focused on my teeth far more than normal in the few days since. But I can't help but think, as I did in the chair that day--isn't it enough that I fairly reasonably manage three children while managing overnight work and off-hour sleep and dinner for people who like meat and people who don't and projects at home and...? Isn't any of that enough, or does being a dental disaster mean that ultimately, I have failed?

After the dentist, I went back to the managing and the running and the multitasking that usually make me feel pretty accomplished. I will brush my teeth more. I might even floss regularly. I will attempt to make sure that my next dentist visit has a little less pain and a lot less whispering. But along the way, I will also try to remember that while being ANY kind of disaster is not ideal, having a little disaster sometimes, while having a fair amount of success most of the time, is actually not so terrible. I'm still a darn good multitasker. And in six months (no, wait, I am now required to go every three), I will be a multitasker with much better teeth.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

I Drove To Pittsburgh

I make my way, white-knuckled, along the narrow, winding highway to our destination. I am usually a passenger (generally white-knuckled in that seat too), but, circumstances being what they are, I am driving, knowing that I just have to make it happen--my vision, my stamina, and my eye-hand-foot coordination just have to work.

And then I remember--I drove to Pittsburgh. When, in the midst of college decision making, my daughter needed to visit a school in Pittsburgh, I drove her, 6-plus hours each way, with not much sleep under my belt, in pre-dawn darkness and full daylight. I drove to Pittsburgh, because no one else really could. I drove to Pittsburgh, because there was no easier or more affordable way. I drove to Pittsburgh, because, well, it had to be done. And while I may not have done it as fast as it can be done, or as well as it can be done, I did it. I did it.

So, as I prepare for and handle the narrow road and the tight turns and the impending twilight and the eventual darkness, I repeat over and over in my head, so that no one else could hear, "I drove to Pittsburgh." And somehow (though perhaps not in record time), I make it. We arrive, in one piece, my hands even recovered from the white knuckles.

Sometimes, doing what we worry we can't do simply requires reminding ourselves of the things we HAVE done. I drove to Pittsburgh. And with the thought of that in the back of my head, who knows what else I can accomplish...?