Just the other day, I ran across this journal entry I wrote in 2009 when my kids were nine and seven years old. I remember these feelings of overwhelm vividly. Now I sit in a quiet house with a lot more time to focus on the kitchen, laundry and me and I realize with certainty how all that I did and all that I dropped the ball on, truly were enough. I am grateful for the time I set the house and entertainment aside to invest in my children. It was enough.
It Is Enough – May 16, 2009
In one week I have:
Gotten up at 5:30 every morning to make my husband breakfast before he leaves for work
Shaved and bathed the dog
Made two batches of cookies and a Jicama Salad for three different school events
Gone on a choir field trip with 52 ecstatic, energetic children
Gone to lunch with a friend I haven’t seen for more than half a year who needed to talk
Gone to three baseball practices…
A baseball game…
A soccer game…
A karate practice…
A guitar practice…
Spent an evening helping Webelos work on their activity badges
Finally gotten my hair done after a six-month lapse, because there just wasn’t time or money before now
Made cookies for the neighbor who has been helping us redo our yard
Made time for a date with my over-worked husband
Taught art classes for a full day to kids first through fourth grades
Rescued a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest
Taken the baby bird to a bird refuge
Argued with a nine-year old about standing on other people’s cars, having oatmeal for breakfast four days in a row, and if she REALLY has to practice her guitar for a full half hour every single day
Dragged a seven-year old around the house to show him all the deserted items he has left in every single room of the house every single day of the week…
And yet I feel like I haven’t done anything because…
I have not a sink full, but a kitchen full of dirty dishes,
A mountain of laundry,
A craft room/office stuffed with a dozen piles needing to be sorted and filed or put away,
And a “to do” list as long as my arm!
But somehow when I walk by my son at the school and his eyes twinkle as he says, “Hi Mom!”
Or I wake up to my daughter’s beautiful voice singing as she makes me breakfast
I realize…
