For the most part, I just get through life one day at a time. I wake ridiculously early so that I can have a few moments to get myself partially awake and sort of together. Then, I am pleasured with the task of waking a toddler up and dragging her through a morning routine that she has no interest or desire to be a part of. Once we get into the car, I distract her with an electronic device so that my nerves aren’t bombarded with a whining kid while also dealing with insane traffic.
On some days, I leave her at the babysitter’s, crying. She doesn’t cry often when I leave her, but when she does, my heart shatters into a million pieces as I drive away from her so I can spend the next 8 hours answering phone calls and filing warranty claims.
I get one precious hour for lunch, but some days, I have to cut my midday break by 30 minutes so I can go pick up my kid. It’s usually her dad’s job to pick her up, but if they call a mandatory 10 or 12 hour day on him, I am tasked with picking her up.
Once everyone is home, I prepare dinner for my darling child, just to have her push it away and tell me, “No, mommy! Don’t want!” After dinner, I usually get a few quiet moments while the other two members of my family head upstairs to play and watch TV, but I don’t always feel as though I spend this time wisely. Most of the time, I will watch something from my DVR or just scroll through my phone, grateful for some quiet.
Once playtime is over, I drag my toddler through a bedtime routine that she does not wish to be a part of. After reading “just one more” book for the 100’th time, I enforce lights out.
At this point, I just want to collapse into bed, but I usually spend at least an hour with my husband while we watch a TV show together or talk. Once he heads upstairs to start his nightly gaming and decompression routine, I am faced with a conundrum. If I choose to go to bed to get highly needed rest, I will usually end up lying there, staring at the ceiling while my CPAP machines breathes in and out in my face. If I choose to watch more TV, or read, or write, I never seem to get anything accomplished.
The TV I watch is mindless. The words I write make no sense, and most of the time, it’s just me lecturing myself on what an awful writer I am. If I read, the words form a jumble on the page, and my distracted mind can’t comprehend them.
Recently, I have added something new to my purpose. Once a week, a friend comes over, and we record a web show about something we both love very much. The next night, I edit the videos, and we publish them once a week on the Internet.
We are only 7 weeks into this project, but views are low, so that puts me into even more of a tailspin, especially when I sit around and ask myself questions such as, “What is my purpose?”
If a stranger walked up to me on the street and asked me that very question, this would be my answer.
My purpose is to be me. It is to wholly embrace myself, including those things that I hate most about me. My purpose is to be a strong example to my daughter, even though my time spent with her is me dragging her around to do things she probably doesn’t understand yet. My purpose is to constantly work toward my passions and to never, ever give up on myself or my dreams.
My purpose is simply to be better tomorrow than I was today.