Most of you know that I work for a once a year annual event. Part time. Like half part time. 12ish hours a week.
In a previous decade in another world- I was the event planner for this particular outdoor venue that involves airplanes. I took the job working from home when Allyson was born. It was all consuming. I worked non stop and our house became air show central. But I was home with Allyson- and it was awesome. On more than one occasion I thanked God for the opportunity. Like daily. I would pack around my baby on my hip while visiting printers, committee members and while on phone calls.
And then I became pregnant with Emily. And Dan and I knew that I couldn't do it all with TWO. So when Emi was born I was replaced and then for the next 12 months I was a consultant. And after that I was done.
Then I had Sam.
And when he was almost a year old- I got a call asking if I could consider coming back to work for the show part time, as an office girl, and basically just answer the phones. I agreed, as long as I could pack my traveling circus around with me (bring my kids to work). And I was sucked back in.
Here I sit- 4 years later. And I realize I was dooped. When I heard 'office girl' I envisioned 'stress free', 'can I pass a message', and 'I'll have her call you back'. I should have known better.
It's good. I really like what I do, and I feel strongly for the cause that we serve. So it really is good. But see, last night I had the first of many restless nights dreaming about the upcoming show. And I know that it is only the beginning.
Around 8 weeks before the event, the stress begins to grow, deadlines begin to come due, half part time turns into more than full time and I stop being able to rest. Last nights dream? I neglected to have the credentials prepared and I forgot to show up for the actual weekend of the show. I was glad to wake up.
About this time every year, every spare minute that I can conjure up ends up being spent on air show stuff (and then I go to sleep and dream about all the stuff I have to do.) Somehow office girl has evolved into 'take care of most of the details you used to' girl.
It's started, and it's only February.
I used to get to this point every year and I would think in my head 'just hold your breath and plow through'.
77 days to go. And then this baby can be put to bed for another year. And I can basically be a stay at home mom again.
Ready. Set. Go