There is one day where I have no where to go, per-say.
We linger in our jammies a bit longer than usual.
Breakfast is minimal- smoothies and hard boiled eggs.
Jake the Neverland Pirates sing in the background of dancing Barbies, talking dolls, squishing play-doh.
And it’s this day that I find most stressful-
How do I be the most productive and the most restful?
How do I be fully present with her, and have time for me?
There is a list glaring at me from the desk- things that I can’t throw my hands in the air for the sake of a day at the zoo.
There is a little person who holds the list loosely, lost in her own ideas of the day.
“Mama, you don’t work today? Yah!!!!!!!”
Mamas work everyday.
The days I work outside of the house, I’m impaled by longings to kiss her sweet face, to hold her hand, to hear her laugh.
The days I work at home I am caught between caring for the things I’ve neglected while I’m away and that list.
That list that needs doing.
Her little face, now framed by growing blonde that will soon turn dark- will I be there to see it change? Will I miss it?
And my insides are screaming- what about me?
It’s a terrible Working Mama Gollum syndrome.
How do you get it done? How do you budget and pay all of your bills and keep the house clean and do the grocery shopping and cook nutrient-rich foods and meal plan and party plan and teach your children about God’s love and the alphabet and pour your life into them and work hard outside of the house and organize the calendar and the pantry and the wedding gifts and not forget who you are in the interim?
My thoughts and prayers are with all of you who have to split yourself in this way- this tug and pull of callings. This delicate balancing act. This intense, all-consuming heart work that is being a parent.