Paradise Lost. And Gained.

Author: Ilina Ewen
Published: February 19, 2010 at 6:16 am
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20070710190659!HillInlet_ST_03 This song has been ringing in my ears lately. I know there must be a message in that ear worm. Why else would Charlene be crooning in my ears?

"Hey lady, you lady
cursing at your life
you're a discontented mother
and a regimented wife
I've no doubt
you dream about the things you never do"

I'm on the brink of losing it. Really, I am. If I had hair long enough to pull I'd have yanked it out by now. Instead my short locks are graying before my tired eyes. I noticed a deep crevasse under my right eye the other day. I thought it was the marks the sheets left from sleeping on my stomach in a ball because I didn't want to disturb the dog in his gently snoring slumber. I slathered on some eye cream. Still there. Slathered on some more, being careful to use the tip of my ring finger in an ever so gentle circular motion. The sheets were not the culprit here. I owe that under eye crevasse to Stress.

Beauty's number one foe. A mother's constant companion.

My days are spent cooking, packing lunches, crunching numbers, writing, collecting data, grocery shopping, disciplining, dog walking, strategizing, cleaning, scheduling meetings, arranging play dates. It's a hot jumbled mess of activities and tasks. A collision of home and work. Such is the life of a work at home mother. WAHM. Say it aloud and it sounds like WHAM. Sums it up for me.

I try to write while children run underfoot. The dog rings the bell to tell me he has to go out. Forts are built with blankets and fitted sheets. The UPS man knocks on the door. A neighbor calls to tell me of another neighbor's illness. Kids start to fight. Then wrestle. The dog barks and chimes in. The kettle whistles. The washing machine buzzes, a herky jerky reminder that piles of clothes line the hall waiting their turn to be folded. A client calls to plug me into a conference call. Whining ensues because the fort collapses. I can't find the mute button on my new phone. Dog's ringing the bell again. Then he romps in and knocks over his water bowl. Boys are playing tug of war with a USB cord. Email beeps. And beeps. And beeps. How the hell do I turn off the alerts on this phone?! Oven timer buzzes. A vase of bamboo gets knocked over. And the conference call is still going on.

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Article Author: Ilina Ewen

Ilina is the mother of two boys who have given her back fat, prematurely gray hair, laugh lines, and endless joy. She is a food fanatic but hates the term "foodie." She cooks, she eats, she doesn't count calories. …

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