Is it sad that I repeat this phrase to myself nearly every single day?
Perhaps I am trying to convince myself...but, I believe someday I will only have to dress myself in the morning. I believe someday I will be able to sit down to a meal with my husband and actually make eye contact. I believe someday I will lay my head on my pillow at night and not wake up until the sun rises. I believe someday I will be able to write a paragraph like this and not have to get up again------------------for the third time.
Please do not take this as complaining, it is only hope. Sometimes I feel guilty that I am not enjoying enough "the best time of my life". But, what a stupid thing to feel guilty about. I am working hard to raise children. Sprinkled in the cracks and crevices of this labor are dazzlingly bright moments of joy--I live off of these.
Craig has been going in to work in the afternoon and returning home to me after midnight. I have been hogging the mornings to run errands, alone. I have given up the battle of bringing my brood along. It seems to always end in tears (for them) and tension (for me). Although, I will admit I enjoy the comments I recieve as we wander the aisles of Target, "Look! She's got TWO in a stroller and one strapped to her chest!". Somehow I relish the thought that other people recongnize that my life is CRAZY!
It took giving birth to three. But, my 15 hours at the side of Seth's bed in the hospital was a turning point for me as a parent, as a mother. I realized that these delicate little bodies deserve all of me and the "I" I knew before is not who I am now. It is with a sense of relief that I married a generous boy who is a man willing to share me with the children he gave to me. Patience is of the essence here, but love makes it possible.
Hazel just nodded off--the last of the three to slip into sleep. The king and queen and the little princess--the rulers of this household.