Find time for life

I have allowed life to take over my life, and I did it without even putting up a good fight.

I'm beat, plain and simple. I am beat and ready to put some white undies on a stick and wave surrender, only I haven't done laundry in days, so there isn't a clean pair to be found.

Henry Kissinger may have said "The urgent takes all the time from the important," but I'm living it.

When did I lose control?

Has it been slipping away a bit at a time, or did some big catastrophe set my world wobbling? I'm not sure. All I do know is that when I heard the words "I'll be glad when my kids don't need me so much" came out of my mouth, you might as well have slapped me in the face.

Since when did I become so self important that anything became more important than what my children need from me at any moment?

I know it's been a tough week. Disappointments in my career, piled on top of scholarship deadlines for Wil, worked in around wedding planning with Jenny, added to an already ambitious work schedule has put me teetering on the edge of collapse (others would claim I've already tumbled over that edge with a mighty thud).

How selfish of me to complain and pout and throw a tantrum because my children needed more of me than I thought they should this week. One day they'll be busy with new lives they create, and I'll ache for the day they needed me, wanted me.

I taught about phytochemicals in nutrition this week, except I call them "fighting" chemicals. Each phytochemical gives fruits and vegetables their super-hero fighting powers. Just like Spiderman can weave a web and Superman has his x-ray vision, phytochemicals have secret powers that make them superheroes against disease.

So, I asked the third graders at NCO who their favorite superhero was.

"You," exclaimed one young lad.

Yep, I think there's still time tonight to proofread one more scholarship, check out one more wedding bouquet website and play superhero for a bunch of kids who just want someone to love them. Besides, clean underwear is really overrated.

The next time I wish my children's childhood away, you have permission to wash my mouth out with soap.