“How do you do it? The kids, the job, all this travel…you make it seem so effortless…”

I stared back at her and blinked.

There in a crowded conference was someone accusing me of having my shit together. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Do I tell her I forgot to pack enough underwear because the kids had thrown mine out of the suitcase in a fit before I left? Do I tell her my husband had to miss a very important day of work because one child was sick and no one could go to my girlfriend’s house? Do I tell her I had to miss having a girl’s day with my daughter at Barbie’s real Malibu Dream House in order to fly to this stupid conference?

No. I just blinked back and smiled and nodded.

Tonight I’m picking up the pieces of my life. As I do every night. Tonight those pieces include another sick child, strewn across my bed, puking on towel after towel and soiling pantie after pantie. I’m washing the towels in between attempts to entertain her still not 100% brother, and a good 10 hours worth of work.

I’m canceling dentist appointments, scheduling doctor’s visits, and wondering exactly how a new washer and dryer will get delivered between important work calls, school pick ups and drop offs, and my in-laws arriving in town.

I’m piecing together the schedule for this week and next, juggling a generous friend’s help with babysitting, a nanny I can afford a few days a week, and a double-birthday party that will be thrown somewhere in between another trip to San Francisco and a work/vacation to Florida.

I’m screaming in my head that this MUST get better. It WILL get better and it’s just what everyone does to get by.

It is…right?

I’m going to scream ONLY in my head from now on. Those that know and love me too well hear me scream out loud and then keep things from me. Well intentioned but maddening.

Hey, how’s today going? Things are good here. Busy, meeting a lot of people, networking…what? What do you mean you’re home? What? What do you mean he’s sick? What? Why didn’t you call? Did you call the school? Do you have Pedialyte? Is he upset? Did you give him a towel? …

…and on and on.

I have a friend who jokes that I’m never zen when away from my home. It’s true though. I’m worried. I’m wondering. I’m also feeling the guilt of leaving. Of NOT being there for the first, scared puke. NOT being there to comfort. Not being there to find the favorite shirt. NOT being there to paint Barbie on our toenails and sip pink lemonade.

Of course, there are speeches to be made and careers to further and sacrifices for all. A paycheck needs to come in the mail. A job needs to get done.

Up and down. Back and forth. Around and around until I’m dizzy. Where am I supposed to be today? Dentist. Then conference call. Then emails. Then school pick up. Wait, do I need to do school drop off today? No…today’s Dad’s day for drop off. Then pack. Then blog posts, then maybe follow up on that other thing. Then the other conference call. Then more emails. Then a memo. Then I need to start dinner, then get kids ready for tomorrow…what was tomorrow again? Right…make sure I’m packed and nanny comes over, and she has the instructions for school and the permission slip and that snacks are packed before I board that plane…. what day is it again? Was I supposed to pick up that prescription? Oh…and it’s sharing day at preschool…

Dizzy.

I chose this. A very wise woman reminded me of that recently. We don’t all choose to be mothers. We don’t all choose to have careers. Both are choices and there are ramifications for those choices. I can’t hold anyone else responsible for the dizzy but myself.

Of course there are days both choices make perfect sense. I am lucky to work from home the majority of the time, to be able to be waiting in the school pick-up line instead of being in an office cubicle.

I get to speak in front of hundreds of people. Meet wonderful friends in other cities. I get to host a show, I get to make my voice heard. I get to help others do the same, all for a paycheck.

I also get to stroke my daughter’s hair tonight, as she lays next to me while I type. I get to see my son build a lego space ship and fly it over to me at 2 in the afternoon. Not after hours, not before I leave for an office. But in the middle of the day.

I can finish memos and emails as I tuck kids in bed. I can write scripts as I pack tomorrow’s lunches.

Staring at the woman at the conference I smiled and nodded because I knew it was at least partly true. At that MOMENT everything was under control. I had navigated my duties at the conference, I had planned and prep’d my kids for me being gone, their Dad was ready, the nanny was ready… I HAD IT ALL BABY!

Heh.

No, I just knew how to lie in the face of such absurdity. I mean, I could have blurted out “BWHWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” at the very nice woman’s face. Maybe I should have.

But I didn’t.

I blinked.

And I will keep blinking as I walk this tightrope and attempt to not fall on my face.