Just keep swimming, just keep swimming

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