When my kids came down with the flu a few years ago, and I rocked them to sleep while they struggled to find rest, I wanted nothing more than to be there for them in all of their moments. If they could just get over their fevers, then I would be more thankful for their health than I ever had been before. And then there was the time my baby had that terrible cough with that awful whooping sound. As I stayed up with him through his coughing spasms and waited for him to catch his breath, I knew there was no where else I would rather be. I knew that all of the silly pressures and deadlines and minor disappointments in my life didn't matter as much as the sweet baby in my arms. If he could just get better. If he could just catch his breath and clear his lungs and get better, then I would be a better mother. I would quit getting annoyed with whiny kids, and instead, show them how to express themselves by being patient and kind myself. I would quit complaining about never getting me time, and instead delight in the fact that I have sweet little children to read bedtime stories to. And there was the time I miscarried a sweet little life. That little life changed me as a mother in such a huge, immeasurable way. I became a more patient, loving, dedicated, and thankful mother while carrying that sweet baby. I tried to stop taking so many things for granted as I struggled to hold on and keep up hope. I loved carrying that little life, and when I lost that baby and looked at that tiny little body, I knew life was amazing, and I would not take motherhood for granted one more day.
But I was wrong. I did take it for granted - motherhood, my children, life, everything. Because weeks and then months passed by after that tragedy. Life got normal again, things became happy and routine, and then I got tired, and the kids got loud and tired and fussy one day, and they took all of the board games out of our organized closet and scattered all of the pieces to all of the games on the floor, and I wanted to send them to bed at 3 in the afternoon, while I put on a grown up movie and forgot about all the chaos a while. I wanted to throw all of their games away, and I wondered what my life would be if I spent more time writing and less time mothering. But I knew the answer. I knew my life wouldn't be what I wanted it to be, or what my kids would want it to be. In my present daily life, there are no unnecessary moments that I want to trade in for more me time. I am their teacher. I am their nurturer. I am the one who is here for them, and even though it is trying at times, it is wonderful. I am not always good at doing this. I can lose my patience. I can misunderstand them. I often find myself exhausted and frustrated and ordering a pizza when I just don't want to prepare and clean up after another organic, healthy meal. But then I remember what it felt like to look down at the little body of the baby I lost. I remember that in that moment I felt such pain, but also such love, and I try my best to hold on to that love and share it with the parts of my family I have here with me.
math is a total in-the-middle moment for me... definitely not a highlight of my day |
Maybe it is unrealistic, but I've never been much for setting realistic goals anyway.