On Being ... Worried and Wishful

I've been watching this cool video series the Washington Post has on their Web site. It's called OnBeing. It's ordinary people talking about their lives. The pieces are neatly edited and the results are pretty amazing. Check it out. A couple have made me cry, but that's pretty easy these days.

I can't believe I've only been in school three weeks and I've already had a meltdown. I just remember last year when I was working so hard and my family was suffering so much. I'm afraid of reliving last year. Despite assurances from my husband, I can't help but worry. It was quite a smack.

I hate telling my kids "not now." And I'm mad that I'm stuck in my bedroom studying when it's so absolutely perfect outside. And I hate it that I have so much to do that I feel guilty if I do anything else, even though I know I need to do something else.

I want to wander through a corn maze with my kids and my man. I want to walk around Devil's Lake. I want to help my mom with her yard work and rub her sore, swollen feet. I want to make an apple pie. I want to go horseback riding.

And, hell, as long as I'm wishing, I'd like to be 30 pounds lighter and have thicker, curlier hair and a straighter face and more smiles and more patience and a clean house with no invisible holes that invite mice every fall (Gah!) and loads of money in the bank so I could travel all over Europe next summer, my last summer of freedom.

Oh, well. If wishes were horses, I'd probably get trampled in a stampede.