Spending life on the run in suburbia

I am caught in suburbia hell.
I realized my decline into the depths as I was walking through the grocery story one Monday morning.
I found myself aimlessly plodding along, unable to remember what I was looking for or why I was there.
I wouldn't have thought a thing about my state of mind -- I have been walking around in an aimless stupor for quite some time -- except I ran into an old friend from high school.
Normally, I am thrilled to see an old classmate, but this day, even saying hello seemed an effort to me.
As we stood in the aisle, catching up on the years, I felt awkward and unfriendly. I tried to laugh but couldn't even quite muster a smile. I fidgeted and was completely unfocused. I felt totally relieved when we finally parted ways.
"What is wrong with me?" I asked myself as I meandered down the rest of the aisles.
I felt like I was in a depression, but I didn't feel depressed. I acted like I needed a nap, but I wasn't tired.
Being everywherefor everyone
I didn't figure it out until I was on my way home -- which was about the same time I realized I had forgotten most of the items I had been shopping for.
I am completely, totally, thoroughly, 100 percent exhausted.
It's not the dead-on-my-feet, been-running-around-all-day kind of exhaustion. A good night's sleep or an afternoon nap can take care of that.
This is exhaustion caused from the constant, everyday, every month, every year struggle of managing the lives of six busy people.
It's what happens when you get caught in suburbia hell.
"I'm going to drop Andrew off at practice on the way to Phillip's game. You go to Robert's game when you're done with David's soccer practice," I informed my husband of the evening's strategy for being everywhere for everyone.
A revealing questionfrom a 6-year-old
Once, from 5 p.m. Thursday to 7:30 p.m. Saturday, we attended seven sporting events in four towns and one birthday party.
As if just getting there isn't difficult enough, it takes a strategic genius to make sure the proper uniforms and equipment are ready for use -- plus a birthday present.
You know it's bad when your 6-year-old looks up at you and says, "Whose game are we at now?"
Pat and I didn't think about it before we had all these children -- it starts out so sweet and innocent, little babies cooing in your arms.
Before you know it, they are out of your arms and walking. Then they want to go places and do things.
To think we encouraged them to get involved in extracurriculars!
By the time children are old enough to sit at the dinner table, it seems, they are no longer home at dinner time!
But is the alternativea better lifestyle?
I have threatened to sell our suburban home and move to the wilderness where the children can hunt for food, milk cows and chop firewood for exercise.
They would probably be more physically fit!
I bet I would be able to walk into a store and remember the items I needed -- which would only be a few things because most of our food would be grown in our garden or caught in the wilderness.
If I saw an old friend at the store, I would be able to carry on a delightful, coherent conversation, no doubt.
Of course, I wouldn't be able to talk for long. I would need to get back to the house to can some vegetables or knead bread. For sure, I would have clothes to wash in the creek and dinner to prepare.
Do men come home for dinner when they are out hunting game? Do they clean what they kill?
It all sounds kind of exhausting.
So maybe suburbia has its advantages; things are comfortable and convenient.
Why does it feel like hell?
gwhite@vindy.com
XListen for Gail's commentary Thursday at 6:35 a.m. and 8:35 a.m. on WYSU, 88.5 FM.