Floundering

Being a mom is a hard job. Wow. I mean, W.O.W. Some days I just feel like I am floundering between re-directing busy boys, laundry that grows by the nano-second, guilt that builds to the point of Three Mile Island every time I say "just one second..." (and/or insert, 'Dinosaur Train' is on TV), working out/training for my 10k, posting pictures/stories on this blog so the boys will actually have something to read about their childhood because at this rate it's their only hope. I could go on ranting about this, but I'll stop myself.

I realize this is a season. I realize that children are only small once and I need to enjoy this time. I realize that laundry/cleaning can wait. But really...laundry also has to get done so my kids have clothes. Dishes need washing so I can feed hungry mouths. Running has to happen so I'm not puking on the time-keepers shoes (who by-the-way, I hope will still be recording times by the time I cross the finish line).

I guess it's all about balance, right? And breathing. And not taking myself or my role too seriously. I think I always default to the notion that I will "ruin" or "damage" my kids if I don't _____________ (fill in the blank) with/to/for them.

However, thinking more about it here...as I look at the broad strokes of life...my boys will remember how they felt, not about what I did. So, I hope that even in the midst of piles of laundry and dishes, emails and phone calls, fire alarms and finding worms, they sense my deep love for them above these necessities...even though sometimes I will still need to finish the task at hand.

Ok. Thanks.

Do you take checks? $75?
I needed that therapy session...