Cutting things out
I’m sorta kinda ridiculously busy. Work, kids, homeschool, husband, home — I’ve got a lot going on and it holds together pretty much because I don’t look down when I’m walking on the tightrope. Being this busy means I have to cut some things out, especially so I can do things for me like working out every day (I’m working to get fit before I turn 40 in 2010 — and I mean truly fit and not just lumpy fit. I mean fit like pre-Noah’s arrival). And also so I can do things that matter to me but are a timesuck (I get a lot of adoption-related email from strangers and it’s important to me to give the people who email the attention they deserve). And the things that keep me sane (Thursday potluck).
Some things get cut and I don’t really miss them (television, gossip blogs although I’m reading more political blogs so it’s a trade-off). Other things get cut and it’s hard because the things have to do with people and there’s no way you can cut around people and not have the fall-out.
I just don’t have the time/energy to be the cheerleader when I’m at a place where any cheers that I have I need to use to motivate myself. And then sometimes I get resentful that folks expect me to be always standing there with my pompoms.
But here is the dilemma, my friends, who do you think picked those pompoms up in the first place? That’s right, me. So I’ve been trying to think — what made me do that? What makes me step into that role? What’s in it for me? Because unless I figure that out, I won’t really know how to quit setting folks up to annoy me.
I can’t put it all on the person/people who have these expectations for me because the truth is I’ve been more than willing to be the shoulder to lean on. The more I think about it, the more I know I needed someone to lean so I could prop myself up. It feels good to be the go-to girl; it’s a self-esteem boost. But it was also draining me and dangit, I got hurt when I tried to hand off the pompoms and they just got pushed back into my hands. So I dropped them. Ok, I actually threw them. And maybe I stomped away after.
Still it’s on me. I’m just not sure what to do about it and right now I’m too busy and tired to really have the energy to deal with it. Even though I know that the longer I leave it, the more of a mess it will be.
Pom-pom dropping is *good*. You don’t see successful *men* being cheerleaders, right? In fact, your cheerleader metaphore is tres appropriate, oui?
Sometimes the “reward” for being a competent person is more work. I didn’t understand how much you wanted folks at the Halloween Highball thing until you asked me more than once. Then it “dawned” on me (har har!) that you were serious and I needed to be there. And I’m glad I was!
Leslie, you’re one of the people who I feel like let’s me be ME and that I can be there for you and know that you’ll be there for me, too. We share our pompoms!
(Isn’t it pon-pom? I wrote it that way but couldn’t make myself keep it.)
I disagree with Leslie. My Husband is a fantastic cheerleader. He’s the one who pointed out the article about the singing group in our newspaper. He’s the one who put it on our fridge. He’s the one who got me dressed and pushed me out the door for the first practice. And he’s the one who said, “I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” when I got the affirmative call. My father was much the same way as was my grandfather. Men can be fabulous cheerleaders.
But back to the topic at hand:
You know. I’ve found that it’s hard at times to know when to pick up the pompoms and when to shake them in my own face and when to throw them at someone else all together. I think people with encouraging natures find themselves in this dilemma from time to time or more often. As you know, I’ve taken a seat from encouraging young mothers/new birth mothers because it drains the ever-loving life out of me. Someday I hope to be able to do that again but I’ve needed to turn the focus back onto my healing for the time being. And apparently my therapist says that is okay.
Look at me ramble in your comments again. You love me.
All the same, I hope I am not one of your annoyances. Let me know if I am and I’ll throw pompoms at myself.
Ha! Jenna! It ain’t you!
Gosh,I so relate. I am off to CO next week for a planning session for a cause/org I support and yet something inside me just wants to hide away and give up. Iam behind on two websites I maintain, a newsletter for another I support, work is crazy, my kids are busy, and oh yeah, met a new guy.
I am spent. I feel like too many people depend on me and I am lacking the reserves to take care of myself.
Met a new guy, Suz? Oh really???
It’s actually pom-pons, isn’t it? But I think that’s lame and I like pom-poms best.
Anyway, there are some people who can’t ever get over the fact that their cheerleader sometimes needs cheering on. When there isn’t a give and take, it’s depressing and makes the giver feel all used up and resentful. There’s nothing wrong with putting down the pompoms and saying, “I just can’t play this role for you right now. I still love you, but I need cheering and I have to go get that somewhere else right this minute.” You deserve it. Two-way streets are awesome.
AHA! PompoNs! And Abby, I won’t even look down on you for knowing that. I’m sure you know it in a craft sense or in the cool athletic cheer team leader sense and not the shaking your stuff for the boys on the field stuff.
Don’t worry, I was never, ever, never, ever, a cheerleader. This is weird, but the reason I remember that it’s pompoNs is because when I was about 5, I got a pair of them as a gift and I remember spending, like, 2 hours staring at the tag and going, “How can it end in an “N”? Nobody ever says it that way. How could it be?” It was earth-shattering for me as a new reader.