The Last Time I Was Caught Up... {Updated}

...was in July of 2005.  Really, I'm not making this up or throwing out a random date.  That's truly the last time I was caught up.

I remember it well - oh, so vividly! - because it was the night before we were departing from Israel.  After living there for two and a half years, we were moving back to the States; and all the days and weeks and months of preparation for that transition were behind us.  Only one night left, and then we were flying west.

My emotions were understandably mixed.  The joy of reuniting with loved ones back home was tempered by the sadness of saying goodbye to our dear friends in Israel.  Such is the case in any such transition.

But as I lay there that final night, my predominant emotion was something different:  awe.  "We did it!" I marveled.  "We really did it!  We gave away, threw away, sent ahead, or packed all of the stuff that we accumulated during our time here.  All that's left are our suitcases and two air mattresses that we'll leave with our friends who are taking us to the airport tomorrow.  It's really all done!"

I can still picture the way that 736-square-foot apartment looked that night.  It was so empty, so clean, so white.  I remember looking around over and over and soaking in the sight of that emptiness as I relished the sense of accomplishment.  As strong as my visual memory is of that night, equally as strong is my emotional memory.  The relief I felt at having finished the monumental task of dismantling our life there and packing it up to start it anew in a different country was enormous.

And I realized something as I lay there too awestruck to sleep:  I was caught up.

There was nothing else I could do in those moments.  I couldn't - and didn't need to - do laundry, or dishes, or housecleaning.  I couldn't do email or make a phone call.  I couldn't read a book to or play a game with Josiah, who was sleeping peacefully after such a full day.  I didn't need to learn a new worship song to teach the church, nor did I need to practice guitar.  I didn't need to run to the grocery store or cook some food.  I didn't even need to practice Hebrew.  There was literally nothing to do.  So I laid there, gazed around the room, thanked God for bringing us to that place, and imagined how things would go the next day.  And I enjoyed the unfamiliar feeling:  I was caught up.

I haven't felt that way since!  Nearly seven years have gone by, and I've not been able to say even once that I am caught up with all the tasks and responsibilities I try so hard to juggle.  I am always behind.  The mental fatigue that causes is huge, and I get so weary of the feeling of always failing in some area.  Even when I'm euphoric about making great progress in some area (finishing the task of organizing a closet, for example, or completely emptying the laundry chute of dirty clothes), it doesn't take long for the feeling of discouragement to creep back in and threaten to steal my peace and joy.

When I had my six-week follow-up appointment with the midwife recently, the nurse handed me a sheet of paper with a survey for me to fill out.  All the questions were designed to help determine whether or not I was suffering from postpartum depression, and I appreciated the fact that the medical staff there tries to determine how new mothers are doing in that area.  Apparently you have to score 12 points or higher on the questionnaire to have PPD, and I only scored a 4 - thankfully - so I don't have PPD, and I knew beforehand that I didn't.  But what stood out to me and actually made me laugh was that one of the items on the survey was, in essence, "Do you feel overwhelmed?"

Well, of course, I feel overwhelmed!  I felt that way even before I had a baby, much less six weeks after!  What did you expect?  :)

Not too long ago, I was thinking to myself that if I could change one thing - just one thing - about myself, it would be that I would no longer evaluate my worth based on my accomplishments.  All too often, I only feel good about myself if I did something productive that day - and by productive, I mean something that can be seen and measured and charted and marked off a list.  "I nursed Moriah today" doesn't carry nearly as much weight as "I cleaned out the refrigerator," even though caring for Moriah's needs is far more significant than making sure my refrigerator is clean.  "I peacefully answered approximately 892 requests from the boys for help this morning, and didn't let frustration creep into my voice as I heard the repeated calls of 'Mom'!" doesn't make me feel as good about myself as I would if I had been able to dust and vacuum Moriah's room, for example.  Why is that??  Clearly my priorities need to be realigned, and I'm finding that the alignment process needs to happen every day.

Eight weeks after Moriah's birth, I find myself falling so far behind in so many areas; and I question myself, "Did it take me this long after the other children were born to find my footing again?  Was I this overwhelmed those times, too?  When did I finally start feeling like I could, for the most part, successfully juggle my responsibilities again?  When did I feel caught up?"

But then I remember, the last time I was caught up was one out-of-the-ordinary night nearly seven years ago in Tel Aviv.  And that's not likely to be repeated anytime soon!

* For another woman's take on this topic, click here to read about the Myth of Catching Up.


Addendum:  It occurs to me this morning (Tuesday at 10:00 AM) that this post is incomplete.  Let me add a few things.  First, I LOVE my life and my role as a stay-at-home mom.  I would not trade it for anything.  Second, I am incredibly blessed to have such a wonderful husband to share the load of parenting.  Jeff is so involved, so sacrificial, so patient, etc.  He looks for ways to help ease my load, even though the one he carries is heavier than mine by far!  He's amazing, and I'm so grateful.  Third, I'm going to quote something again from Patrice that I originally quoted when Shav was a newborn.  She wrote, "Please don't misread exhaustion for ingratitude."  Actually, the whole second half of this post is exactly what I want to say now.  :)  It seems that my thoughts and emotions here in the first few months after Moriah's birth are nearly identical to how I was feeling after Shav's birth.  It all cycles around.  :)