Flow (for those of you who don't know . . . FLOW: the Cultural Story of Menstruation, the book I've been slaving endlessly over for 2+ years) will officially be on sale one months and 4 days from today. I'm more anxious than excited, nervous than thrilled. The book is beautiful—I'm so inordinately proud how fabulously it all turned out. The pain of putting together such a comprehensive project, the sleepless months, constantly feeling inadequate and in over my head, the misunderstandings, the black holes of silence, have, for the most part, faded. Now is the wait. Wait to see if anyone will pay attention, if people will talk and discuss and spread the word and buy.
I've been saying all along that 2 months out I would devote myself to Flow, that it would be my full time job every day.
Nope. Not even close. And that's my 2 world battle. I'm too busy coping with time management for an 11 year old. Supporting, cajoling, helping, getting supremely pissed off. Someone else's homework has taken over my life. Only it's not just that. It's having 2 kids, 2 schools, organizing drop offs and pick ups. Afterschool, laundry, dinner (the thing I HATE organizing the most). Long pants. I have long pants on my list as Iz refuses to wear anything but stretchy yoga pants and all Jack's are shredded at the knees. And when did we run out of paper towels? And toothpaste?
I volunteered to be on the PTA at Iz's middle school and it's truly starting from scratch—trying to build a communication system for kids, parents, and the school which they, and I, so desperately need. The bottom of her backpack is filled with scrunched balls of paper, some nothing, some REALLY important notices. Last week, along with all communication, I took on having plastic folders imprinted with a school logo (that I have to design), to give to all students, solely for that school/home purpose. And out of 9 other board members, no one's gotten back to me yet, but we want them for next week.
I'm supposed to be designing and producing a line of school t-shirts too. A direct appeal campaign to raise money. Posters for a bake sale that's now been banned by the NYC Department of Health.
Yesterday had at least 20 emails about a pot luck for Jack's class—I'm a class parent there. One of 4 and the one in charge of all "creative" projects. I read that as the job that needs the most time and effort put in.
On my plate today - a early morning trip to Target (I get there as close to 8 as possible so I can get back in time to get a parking spot on the street), designing a book launch poster for a Flow party they're throwing for me at my yoga studio, I'm finding it close to impossible to create something that celebrates me. Working on a kid fiction book that is wonderful but I've lost touch with for the past 2 weeks. Tracking down unpaid invoices. Getting the laundry I left in the laundry room yesterday. Yoga (a bright spot) and then the gruesome homework grind.
Flow? No time. No enthusiastic, expectant energy. Part of me feels like it'll come out and go, barely registering in my daily life. We're having a launch party at Rizzoli, the one thing I'm really excited about, but my kids want to come and I know that will take away from it for me. They'll be miserable, or arguing, or wanting to go home. But they're so excited to come - how do I leave them at home.
Being a mother who does something else is almost impossible. Those extra things keep me sane, let me retain myself instead of getting lost, like my mother did. I was terrified being someone's mom and that it would happen to me—I think, underneath it all, that's part of what drives me to put other things out into the universe. But man, does it make my every day harder.
(and now, day 9, is done)