My emotional climate is subject to changes in temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure. I cycle through seasons of winter, spring, summer and autumn. Frozen stillness and emptiness generates a delicate blossom; new and fragile. Newness becomes familiar, familiar becomes forgotten, forgotten becomes frigid and lost.
I am coexisting in different hemispheres.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…
I am overwhelmed, exhausted and weary yet blessings were never more abundant.
I miss having personal space. I am a jungle gym for jumping, climbing, dodging, kicking, etc. I live my life by a clock of feeding times, sleeping times, and everything in between. I answer the same questions and give the same directions infinite times. I wait for relief only to discover I am on the clock 24/7. When I rest my brain is occupied with how I can be and do better. Ignoring and delegating leave me feeling overwhelmed and inadequate.
But, ahh, the very best of the very best of times! To sing songs to a two year old as she winds down for sleep. Excitedly turning over and over in her bed only to stop and give a quick but tender peck before asking for another tune. Answering the call over and over of a little girl who longs to be with me and share all the exciting discoveries she makes. Watching the joy surge through her body when she is permitted to go wake up her little brother. Seeing how he convulses with happiness to see his big sister, his Papi, his Mama. What completely innocent and beautiful elation!
These beautiful children who have changed my identity and daily stretch my capabilities remind me that these are the best of times.
7 Comments »
I can relate to the personal space comment. I never thought of myself as claustrophobic before I had three kids. Especially on a bench at church on Sunday when for some reason they all feel like they either have to be right next to me or on my lap! Some day I’m sure I’ll wish for a baby to hold in sacrament meeting!
I remember (vaguely) how hard it is….but I can promise you that each age your children reach, it just keeps getting better and better—even while you are completely overwhelmed! Congrats–you’re normal!! Love you so much!
This is soooooooooo how I feel. Parenting is such an extreme experience. Extreme frustration, fatigue, worry, anger….and yet such happiness, laughter, love that bursts out of the seams of my heart. Dude, you just wait until you have four. Holy crap. It’s ca-razy.
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February 7, 2011 @ 7:24 am
I like (and relate to) the sentence “I wait for relief only to discover I am on the clock 24/7.” I wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything, but it is not easy, and even when we get a little “me” time, it’s not really ours, because like you said, you think about how you can be better. . . These little ones are so wonderful. My oldest is 9 now, and I’m starting to get a glimpse of how mothering older children might be. I think the “best” times are going to last for a while. 🙂