Battening Down

I knew it was coming and I have been mentally preparing myself for months now.  There are no storm windows for the type of hurricane I am going through.  Reader, if you think I have it easy and don’t want to read about the perils of navigating life in an affluent beach town, then I will warn you to stop right now and go somewhere else.

The schedules and invitations are rapidly filling my in-box.  I went from casually volunteering at one elementary school and attending some university lectures to feeling like I’m running the state.  It’s unbelievable how much more there is to just do here.  The Professor keeps reminding me to not lose sight of the goals we set and deals we made.  Deals I struck in the middle of the night during a cold Ithaca winter.

I know it can be done, that I can carve out a quiet life for us here in La Jolla.  I see other people who appear to be operating at a sane pace.  How they are immune to the chaos of raising kids and building careers in a city is beyond me.  It is going to take a lot more than just picturing the smiles on my sweet, well-rested boys’ faces.  And it’s going to have to come from somewhere besides the knowing eyes of the Professor.

It looks like I am going to have to say it on my own.   Just purse my lips, press my tongue against the inside of my top front teeth and say it.  “No” and that’s it.  Maybe add on a “Thank you”.  No looking down, mumbling “I’m sorry” or “maybe some other time”… I will look temptation straight in the eye and be brave.

Thinking of time as more valuable than money should help.  I actually took a stab at a time budget, paying myself, husband and children first, then the damn dog, next of kin, and so on.  Nowhere in my sensible plan does it allow for hours of socializing, volunteering, excessive competitive athletics, and extra tutoring on top of the already committed two days of Hebrew school a week to get ready for the Bar Mitzvah I have yet to plan. 

The problem is that everything sounds good and important—etiquette and dance classes for the boys, tennis lessons, weekends away, business dinners, university clubs, writing groups, never mind the regular soul food I need from drinking wine and talking to my girlfriends.

I feel like an old lady with her trusted purse tucked tightly under her arm, bracing herself against whatever or whoever might try to snatch any precious spending capital she has left.