A Few Thoughts on Getting Behind

I'll start by admitting that I realized Tax Day was approaching on April

13. While this year has been eventful, and that's a fairly grand understatement, I'd felt like I'd done a pretty good job of staying organized in the midst of the big events. I'd been punctual (with the exception of Easter), I'd finished my task lists, and we'd run out of milk only once since the baby was born. I was "on it."

Then, as Dave was leaving for his business trip on Monday, I asked what date he was going to return. He said, "I'll be back the 19th."

A buzzer went off in my head. It was April, and the fifteenth was coming.

"Have we filed our taxes yet?"

"No. We'll just file an extension."

Whoa. Money isn't a subject we discuss that much in our house, generally because we don't have that much of it. When we do discuss it, we're usually debating whether to attempt to refinance or lamenting over why we thought buying a house was a better option than renting. Sometimes, we're laughing because we're poor as church mice. Other times, we're stressed because we're poor as church mice.

Personally, I like to file taxes early, around February. Apparently, filing taxes was pretty low on our priority list this year, and we simply forgot about it.

Forgetting about this important day scared me, and it got me thinking. Sure, we're broke. We're like a lot of Americans this year. We're grateful to have jobs. We're scrambling to forgo forclosure, because the benefits of ownership outweigh the costs. We've got big medical bills coming. We have a child about to enter preschool. We have a baby. We're overextended. The day-to-day of our survival consumes us so completely that the future, no matter how hopeful, dim, carefree, or responsibity-laden, exists outside of our consciousness. We don't have room for it. We can't contemplate what may be because we can barely handle what actually is.

I could ask myself how I got like this, how my once simple life turned into this frazzled mess. Perhaps I could pin down a triggering event, but that's pointless. It won't help solve the problem.

Instead, when Dave left on Tuesday, I put the kids down for their naps and started in. I felt like I was taking a stand. I refused to file an extension. I hate procrastinating. Taxes would still need to be filed in the midst of everything else, so I made time and made it happen. I was finished by the end of naptime the next day. Happily, we got a sizeable return which will end up eliminating another committment. Our credit card with the highest interest rate will be paid in full, never to be dealt with again.

Upon finishing, I still had two children to mother, a house to straighten, food to cook, and errands to run. I suddenly pondered the plight of single motherhood. Sometimes I imagine myself as a single mother when Dave is away on business. In many ways I am. I wake kids up and put them to bed, and do everything in between. Every decision is mine. The difference, however, is that I have the luxury of the second income and at the end of the day, I have Dave's support, even if it's over the phone. When he's home, I do not pay bills. I do not send the car in for repairs. I do not fix glitches on the computer. The single mother claims responsibility for everything.

Here's my point. Life happens, and sometimes, a lot of it happens all at once. But that's no excuse to let responsibilities slip. There are two of us. We can do it. We simply need to do the things that need to get done. That's it. Somehow, the single mother does it, and she probably files her taxes on time.