And yet, I look so young. A year later, I feel old today. Like the sort of old that tingles down your spine after you've mopped the floor and you have to stand up from your heaving motions to lean up into your hand at the small of your back and let out a pathetic sigh. That April, I was about two months pregnant with number three. Today, I feel an aura about me. Like a film of sweat and dust from sweeping the floor. I knew then that having children was hard work. 365 days later...well, I know now that I'm in over my head. Coated head to toe in responsibility.
I will sweep and mop the rest of my life. Does this overwhelm you? Not me. That is the easy breezy part of who I've become. In fact, I sweep and mop much less that I did this time last year. These chores slip in and out of my hands easily. That tingle down my achy spine is nothing compared to the tingle in my chest and the chores of child raising that slip in and out of my heart. They say, find a balance. Take time for yourself. Your a better mother when part of your nurture is narcissisitc. I say this. Driving home from target with my floor cleaner (the only one that seems to leave the "sought for" shine) I decided now nor ever, this April or last, I will not truly have time for myself--not until many many Aprils have past. This is helpful.
Every day, letting go a little more. Every year passing a little free-er.