However, the more I feel this nagging sense of unaccomplishment, this feeling of falling behind, (Who, I'm not sure. But I always seem to be bringing up the rear in some way, even if it's just getting everyone buckled into the car five minutes after I mean to. Three or four times a day.) the more I keep seeing examples of others who are struggling with far more, and doing it with quite a bit more grace than I seem to able to be able to muster. There's sickness, and financial hardship, and so so much loss.
I am glad for these reminders that my life is infinitely blessed. I'm glad that most days, the smell of the tops of my children's heads, and a text from a friend or my husband or a call from my parents can keep me up out of the depths, ready to do it all again the next day. I'm usually even able to find the ways to count those blessings, single out the joys and the gifts. Here's to remembering to not just note them mentally, but to catalog them in writing them as well.
- L., cheering "Home!" in his sweet voice every time we turn into our neighborhood.
- O.'s bedtime questions: "Do you think it's really possible for humans to teleport? Because my bus parks the farthest away from my hallway's door. I have to walk the whole sidewalk every morning." "How long do you think it takes to feed an elephant?" "Do you think you can play that game telephone on a real telephone"
- N., offering to help me fold laundry so I'll have time for us to paint our nails.
- N. and Hazel, spooning in my bed on top of my pillows.
- Making myself get out of bed at 6:35 to shower before any kids are awake.
- All my kids big enough to sit by themselves in a booth at a restaurant.
- Toys in the waiting area of the car dealership that actually occupy the kids while we wait for the car's oil to be changed.
- Dear, good friends who are willing to help me patch together systems to watch each others' children so that we can have some semblance of sanity and be four places at once.
- Dear, good friends who commit and follow through with making sure to check in, daily.
- Finding out you are marginally more organized than you appear to be. Sometimes even finding things in the place they are supposed to be.
- Eating a salad. Healthy enough.
- Hazel did not destroy the house when I gave up chasing her to put her in her cage, and left her free to roam while picking up O. at Cub Scouts.
- Actually finishing a blog post. Before 11PM.
- Still time to fall asleep during an episode of Downton Abbey. Again!