The busy season of making and doing and being places has been in full-tilt for me in the past while, both on the family front (tending to three kids on spring break!) and in the business front (workshops! commissions!).
And it's been absolutely, gloriously, wonderful. And hard. And off-kilter. I never quite feel like I do right by my kids, or family, or business, when everything hits at the same time.
I value my busy little kiddos, and how much I learn from them. I've tried to incorporate them into my studio and make them a part of my process as much as I can... but when things are busy there, I need extra help... in the form of older hands.
And that's hard. It's hard, because I want to feel so badly that I truly am making my work a priority without letting things fall off the domestic sphere or pushing my children away. And then it's gut-wrenching, because I truly want to do right by my children and family without letting a client down or missing a deadline.
And I never feel like I've got the rhythm quite right, as there's always something to throw a wrench in things that requires problem-solving.
Adapting on-the-fly sure isn't. Often, I struggle to push away the temptation to feel resentful. Or maybe I'm just feeling tired and get snippy about it. Plus, it's extra conscious work to coordinate and stay ahead of the game. Rescheduling things over and over again can get exhausting, too. So it's draining, but sometimes exhilarating (so much happening!).
The funny thing is that I can feel grumpy and resentful about my art "obligation" as much as I can about my family "obligation," even though both of these things are things that I freely choose.
And that's what I have to remember: that I freely chose them, and I have to get up every day and freely choose them again.
Because they both matter.
Because they're both such a part of me.
And because I love them, and love is repeatedly choosing something and acting on that intention.
So my plan for next year is this: every day I'll get up, choose my husband, choose my kids, and choose my art.
(And to do it with peace, grace, and patience.)