After weeks of sickness, this Mother is weary of well doing.
I am weary of fever, coughing, crankiness and snot.
I am weary of being tired, one kid still up at midnight, another up at 5.
I am weary of reading blogs about loving, enjoying
and making the most of every moment.
Did I just write that?
I am weary of fighting the ‘guilty’ battle,
thinking that I’m not doing enough for my kids.
I am tired of feeling selfish.
Weary of trying to become that uncomplaining, loving-life mom.
Tired of fighting the feeling of not wanting one more little person to crawl on my lap,
of not wanting one more little body to ‘needneedneed’ me.
Pure selfishness you think, yes, I am right now.
I am weary of reading about being a health nut.
As I chew my Rice crispy candy, I don’t want to hear one more word
about all the wickedness that is in that goodness.
I want to make a pan of gooey bars and just eat them all without
caring if they stick to the extra 10lbs that are already hanging around.
And not care in the least if they are full of all evil.
Did I just admit all that?
What is wrong with me?
Why am I not thankful?
I wander around the house picking up after these small people.
I stick the cereal in the fridge and the milk in the pantry.
I stuff another piece of rice crispy candy in my mouth.
I sprayed down the shower hours ago.
It’s still waiting while I write blog posts in my mind, chewing my candy!
Why am I not cleaning that shower while the little one naps?
All the while, my mind is whirling amid the pirate noises from the living room.
What am I missing?
Where is my joy?
Why am I not loving all of this?
Why are all these thoughts assaulting me?
I think I am missing Jesus.
Other then that, I have no fancy answers
for all of this.
A thought niggles in the back of my mind,
is it possible to love your life,
but not necessarily enjoy every single aspect of it?
With Jesus you can find Joy in it,
but you don’t really have love it?
That would be me right now.
I have a wonderful life, no question,
but there are weeks that I don’t just lovelovelove it.
I’m gonna give Jesus a shot here today.
While I do that, I need to get the milk out of the pantry,
and then go scrub that shower.
Little One is awake already,
and she smiles sweetly when I walk in the room.
I can’t help but squeeze her, even tho I am oh so tired of being needed.
Maybe that squeeze was Jesus coming through.
Now in the name of honesty here,
if you have kids and you’ve never felt like this or have no idea what I’m talking about,
please refrain from commenting those particular thoughts
while I try and pull myself back together.