Ever get to the ‘I can’t even’ place?

I do.

My brain goes in a hundred different directions every single day.

I want to paint. I want to write. I want to act. I want to sing. I want to dance. I want to parent, teach, play, talk, film…

But I can’t do all the things, every day.

I have to schedule, market, advertise, give tours, answer messages, balance books, pay bills, buy groceries, do laundry, clean house, be a friend…

I am mind numbingly torn between the extreme need to create and the inescapable need to ‘adult’.

I have a leaky roof, torn up sidewalk, disorganized art center, inoperable upstairs bathroom…

It’s midnight and my oldest just ran down the stairs yelling ‘Dane needs you!’ because Dane can’t run down the stairs for himself and Dane has a hard time shutting down as well. Jett has turned into one helluva brother’s keeper.

I went to their room. They wanted to know why I was still up. I said I was blogging. They didn’t know I blogged. I told them I’d been doing it for years and they immediately wanted to know why.

I explained that I felt fearless and flawed and wanted to share it with anyone willing to listen. I told them I was a proud mother and an aimless artist who sometimes needed to scream something, anything, from the cyber mountaintops. I also explained that I hoped one day they would look back and read what I had written to know who their ‘Ma’ really was.

Jett gasped, “Was???”

I said “Ok. Who your Mom IS.’

Dane, eyes shining, replied, “Don’t worry Mom. We already do.”