Juggling

I'm beginning to see my life as a circus. No, not because my house is filled with side show freaks, although if I find another chin hair I may be classified as a bearded lady. But because I'm becoming a world class juggler.

Juggling is hard. Keeping all the balls in the air takes practice. But imagine juggling fiery balls or razor sharp knives. Juggling relationships is akin to that.

If I were to lose my grip on a ball and it bounced around on the floor or rolled under the furniture to live forever with the dust bunny families that have taken up residency there, no harm done. Not maintaining perfect juggling of personalities or family members that I'm required to keep far enough apart that we live in relative harmony has far greater consequences. Beside my need for an early refill of Xanax or an emergency visit to Dr. Awesome. Tears are shed and things are said that can be far more painful than mis-juggling razor sharp knives.

There are conflicts in my family that if left without buffers could open into Grand Canyon sized chasms. I've pretty much made it my life's work to be responsible for keeping that from happening.

It's a challenging task and every now and then I unintentionally drop whatever I'm juggling at the time and people get hurt. Things get said that can't be pulled back before they cause a heart to hurt. Words that damage things that band aids can't fix.

This is my Big Top and I will stumble though being responsible to keep all the balls in the air until I just can't do it anymore or until someone loses a limb, then it's somebody elses turn to juggle.