Balance is fleeting

Scarecrow

OOoooh, it's been a long week. Oh my goodness.

We've all collapsed in a heap today (apart from T of course  who is working) and are re-charging our batteries, getting ourselves ready for the next wave of trick or treating, hotdogs, mayham and tidying up. I also need to think about the tsunami of work-work, Christmas presents, childrens arrangements for 2.5 weeks and everything else which needs to be organised before I leave on Wednesday. Packing is going to be easy as I've come to the conclusion that I need an entirely new wardrobe. Pretty much everything I own is frumpy and a lot of it (hallelujah) no longer fits me.

This is of course Halloween weekend. Yesterday was the annual Cedar School Halloween party at Nanny Cay (except we're very PC so it's called a Costume Party). We fielded a Scarecrow (lots of raffia and our old dining-room chair covers) Charlie Chaplin (full kiddies tuxedo from the Thrift Shop for $4) and a Hells Angel (denim and tattoos).  As usual there were brilliant and original costumes, lots of stalls and dunking of Headmasters. It's a really big event and much loved by all.

I've continued with my rather strict bee pollen and aloe vera gunk regime during the week and have not been imbibing anything alcoholic or caffeine-related. Of course after 2 glasses of warm, box wine yesterday, I was showing off on the Hells Angels bike (rather embarassingly). Bit sad, really - but it's so hard to get the balance right.

Hells Angel & Charlie Chaplin

I've always been a fan of Nancy Mitford and loved the Pursuit of Happiness. I really wish she was still writing her ascerbic and rather snobby observations, although now I think her book would more likey be entitled the Pursuit of Balance. 

You'd think that if you lived in a tropical paradise, worked in a stimulating part-time job and had eventually managed to find an excellent cleaner - you would be as close to living as balanced a life that there is to be had?

Urrr, not so.

I'm increasingly beginning to believe that this place called Balance is some mythical nirvana that dos'nt really exist, and if it does, it certainly dosn't feature in my version of Google Earth.

When I run out of good ideas for runaway weeks like the one I've just had, I'm inclined to search for articles like "how busy mothers remain  sane". It's the management consultant in me.
In this excellent article by Kari Henley in the Huffington Post, she writes that balance is a fleeting thing and one should rather have fun instead. A wonderful idea, but not one I experience much when looking at the wreckage of a small bathroom used by 3 little boys, for example.

After Shirley 'Superwoman' Conran in the eighties and Nigella 'Domestic Goddess' Lawson in the nineties, this decade dosn't seem to have thrown up the poster girl for getting it right yet. So after not finding much on the internet, it's back to balancing hedge funds and halloween, sobereity with relaxation, mornings with afternoons and 'Cirque de Soleil'- quality juggling acts. I seldom feel balanced, am rarely calm and often feel a bit unhinged.  I do enjoy reading other people writing about it though. It's like reading a grown-up Agony Aunt Column ("Dear Susy. My life is unbalanced, what should I do about it?") with the theory of relativity thrown in for good measure (balance is not equal to zero).

I need to go and butter 30 hotdog rolls and get out of my pyjamas. Thank goodness it's all fleeting.