Who takes care of Mommy?

I’m a preparation junkie – I’ve got day trips (and road trips, for that matter) down to a science. I know just what to pack to ensure everyone is happy. Safe snacks for the allergy-riddled 18-month-old, fun activities for the 4.5-year-old, sunblock, towels, bandaids, whatever. You name it, I think of it. They’re always taken care of. I make sure my husband has food for work lunches, that he takes his vitamins, and gets his hair cut regularly. I do the laundry, clean the house, buy the kids’ wardrobes, grocery shop, take care of the (stupid) cat. When someone is sick, I care for them. When someone is not sick, I do my best to protect them from getting sick.

I give away a lot. Clothes and toys the kids grow out of, products from my company, time… I’m a helper. I give of myself constantly because, well, it sure feels good to give.

If I had to define my life in a sentence I’d say, “My life is about helping others.”

It dawned on me this week that I have not a single item of summer clothing for everyday wear. I have one summer dress. I own one (ONE!) pair of shoes. I have no jeans without tears in the knees. And thanks to a fun day at the park yesterday, I DO have a really bad sunburn (but the kids? no, they’re fine, because I took care of them and put sunblock on them).

I get poor sleep, I neglect myself to make others happy, and I choose to spend money on the kids before myself even though I’m pretty sure no 4.5-year-old really needs 13 sundresses and 8 pairs of shoes.